In Praise of Limited Access

Each weekday evening ends with this solemn promise to myself: I will not be a crazy person in the coming dawn. I take very specific precautions to ensure that the morning will be without the frantic run-a-round and histrionics:

• The next work-day outfit is assembled and laid out alongside coordinating jewelry and shoes.
• Smoothie contents are premeasured and placed upon the top shelf of the frig to be blended in the a.m.
• The alarm is set with an eye for allowing plenty of time for shower, hair, and make-up.

And yet, somehow each morn, all the prep goes right straight to Hell in a handbasket.

And yet, somehow each morn, all the prep goes right straight to Hell in a handbasket. Click To Tweet

Image provided courtesy of pixels.com CC0 license, free for commercial and personal use.

Each morning from 6 to 7, despite my best efforts otherwise, I become a swirling cyclone of running up and down stairs in search of items that often include, but are not limited to, an umbrella, socks, wait – no socks cuz it’s now sandals weather, sunglasses, metro card, car keys, the report I reviewed for work the night before, Kleenex (cuz it’s allergy season), and my stash of protein bars. As the clock moves past 7 am I grab the protein shake to be consumed in the car, kiss the hubs, pet the cat (dammit, back to the kitchen to feed her), and finally with rolling backpack in tow I toss all into the Subaru and head down the driveway and into rush hour traffic to begin my trek to the metro station. The cell phone lying on the passenger seat dings as the incoming messages pile up in queue, but of course I don’t look or respond because texting and driving is NOT. COOL (and it’s also illegal).

Image provided courtesy of Pexels.com CC0 license, free for commercial and personal use.

Twenty minutes later (give or take depending on the traffic, school buses, and whether or not the traffic light goddess is smiling upon me) I’m parking the Subaru and rushing to the metro train platform to join the huddled masses yearning to get to their job sites. I quickly accept the free daily Express offered as I rush through the station entrance. As I settle into the orange vinyl seat I turn my attention to the emails that have accumulated in my inbox. I hurriedly scroll through the urgent, the daily reminders, the get-backs, and the “when you have a minute” queries. This goes on for several minutes until, just past the East Falls Church station the train heads down and into the metro tunnel system.

This is when I take a deep breath and pause.

Image provided courtesy of Pexels.com CC0 license, free for commercial and personal use.

Currently, the Internet connection in the underground sections of the metro transit system is spotty at best. I wish it would stay this way. I know my position here represents the minority viewpoint, but please hear me out. This 14 minute respite each morning – from East Falls Church to the McPherson Square station – is a short but necessary hiatus before all the demands of the day are about to greet me head-on.

Internet connections in the tunnels of the metro are spotty at best. I wish it would stay this way. Click To Tweet

As we move along through the tunnels, this Internet blackout encourages me to take a moment to inhale deeply and exhale slowly. I read the days’ horoscope. I peruse the gossip offered on the back page of the WP Express and also check out any sports news or scores. In short, I have 14 minutes by which to regain a bit of my humanity.

And so, in praise of the sanctity of tunnels, I beseech the powers that be to hear this simple plea for sanity: please keep the tunnels Internet free.

I beseech the powers that be to hear this simple plea: please keep the tunnels Internet free. Click To Tweet

Thank you for your consideration.

Cheers,

Kimba

PS: Do you find unique ways to fit down time into your routine? Please leave your suggestions in the comments section.