I double-snoozed today and didn't actually get out of bed until 6:40. I told myself it was okay because I was driving to Jack London Square to catch the train, which usually means I can leave about 10 minutes later than my 6:55 deadline.

My shower is a time vortex.

Shaving, shampoo and conditioning, brushing teeth. These are all tasks I prefer to do in the shower, and why not? The morning shower's primary purpose isn't, as one might expect, to get me clean, it's to satisfy my inner lizard, the one who would lay in sloth all the long day if not for the sun-baked rock that invigorates its cold-blooded body and mind into action.

I have no heated rock, nor even sun at 6:40, but a stream of 120 degree water applied at high pressure to the back of the neck for twenty minutes does the job of warming my blood and hence body well enough. I go in to the shower a sleepy lizard and come out a normal (soggy) human.

This morning my soggy shaven showered self emerged at 7:10. I'd be lucky to catch the train in Hayward, playing catch-up past both Emeryville and Jack London.

Ever a slave to the Net I took a quick peek at reservations.amtrak.com to see if the train was on time. 'Lo and surprise, it's running 14 minutes late! Dressed and packed up to go, I decide to revel in my good fortune and stop in to the bakery on the way to my parked car and get myself a chai. As I'm waiting for the guy behind the counter (when a 'tall' (small) coffee costs $4 you can get away with labeling the person crafting it a 'barrista,' but when it's someone mixing hot milk and syrup for a beverage that costs less than $2 in a hole-in-the-wall bakery then he's 'the guy behind the counter.'), as I wait I think the same thought that hits me idly most mornings while lingering in bed or in front of the computer before leaving for the train: My thought is about the variable value of time, and how five or ten minutes of web surfing or snoozing at home has a certain personal value, of satisfaction or benefit. Then I think about the 10 seconds that so often make or break my morning commute, racing to make it through the sliding steel doors of Amtrak and how those ten seconds (or more specifically, the ten seconds that precede them) are far more valuable than the 10 minutes of snooze, and when traded on margin can give me two hours of writing time on the train instead of riding time in the traffic mess that is morning 880 South. If only I apply that investment wisdom while tinkering with the clock for a few more moments of lizard-coma.

Today I'm cocky and say 'Fuck it. I'm going to make the train and have Chai too.' So mote it be.

Driving to Jack London (as I'm spending some time with Crystal and Karen in Alameda after work), I calculate that if the train's still 14 minutes late, I'm in good shape. I have 5 minutes to spare.

I have just enough time to miss the exit.

The next exit seems soo far away. It was at least two miles, maybe more. Jumping off the freeway, now in danger of missing the train, I bolt back on the frontage road, quickly approaching the Amtrack station. There are the tracks ahead, with the parking lot on the other side.

About to cross the tracks, the crossing signal activates and the arms start to go down. I look both ways and I see one train, my train, approaching the station.

Now I should give a little more detail: The station is about 100 yards before the crossing. I see the train. I see it's my train, and I see the crossing arms descending (not so much like a mother's protective embrace as like the rough bicep-laden mallets of the bouncer stopping you from getting into a fight you can't win) for a train that I know for a certainty will stop at the station, not go through my intersection. I look both ways, I see no other train, I see that there's plenty of room for the agile driver to snake through the arms, whip to the lot, and still catch my train. I put my hands on the steering wheel and...

...sigh...

I mean, how stupid do you think I am?

I'm sure the eighth-to-last thought (ETLT) of half the people who die getting hit by trains in intersections is "I know for a certainty that..." (The ETLT of half the rest is "I bet I can beat that train" and the ETLT of the remaining 25% is "Hmm. I wonder why the car stalled...")

Okay, I wait for the for the signal to be as smart as me and after about 45 seconds it says 'huh. no train, go fig.' and I race out from the bouncer's loosening grip, hitting a quick left and finding a space that some, not so hurried and harried as I, probably judged to be uncomfortably close to a fire hydrant ("There was no parking anywhere... I think that hydrant wasn't there...").

Hop out of the car (chai's all consumed by now), wait for three cars to slowly pass like sharks hunting for spaces, and run across the street to the train, the train with the closing doors, still half a block away.

The train with one door that didn't seem to close right, the black iris of the interior narrowing to a cat-like slit, the tiger focusing on its prey.

Then from the maw emerges Gary who some of you might remember, who waves at me as I pick up speed, jumping into the pit of the parallel tracks to get to the inner platform, as he holds the door open for me (even more incredible for a day when the train is already 1412 minutes late.

I've missed the train a lot since my lucky streak and it usually involves stress and a race to the next station or all the way in to work. Today I just didn't care. At each stage I smelled the flowers, took the deep breath, (missed the offramp), determined that even if everything wasn't okay, everything would be okay.

And it was.

A nice little parable for the week; a week that might hold a lot of changes; a week that I'm ready for. In short, a week where I'm ready to twist misfortune into triumph. And how often can we really say that?

This week I am the master of my fate. Even if it's a bad week, it's going to be good to great because at this moment I am more in control of my own destiny than at any time I can remember.

---

[FYI I wrote this yesterday morning, but didn't have the chance to post it 'till now]