Day 3: "ftl"

A friend of mine often caps his Facebook status updates with ftw or ftl. I presume it to mean "for the win" or "for the loss."

Today's installment of My Bus Adventure is on its way into the ftl column.

As you may recall, today represented the first true test of my pledge - commuting to an 8 a.m. class by bus. According to the transit system's interactive schedule, I would have to be at my stop by 7:05 a.m., and I would have to leave the house 10 minutes beforehand to ensure I catch the bus. Compare that to my typical departure time of 7:35 a.m.

My bedtime on nights before early class is 11 p.m. Sitting at my desk yesterday evening, I made a plan: go to bed with my microbiology lab books at 10 p.m., finish my lab report, go to sleep, wake up at 6 a.m. or so. ...

It was about midnight when I gave up on my physics homework, shut down my computer, staggered upstairs, and displaced Rogue from my side of the bed. New plan for tomorrow: roll out of bed at 7:15 a.m., pull on jeans and a hat, DRIVE myself to campus. ftl. And for bonus points: breakfast from the Burger King drive-thru.

This self-deprecation is not new. As a child, say pre-teen-ish age, descending the stairs of my parents' home ... "If I step on the bottom landing with my left foot, then I win the game." ... A loss was agonizing, despite the result obviously being predetermined by which foot I had begun with at the top of the stairs.

I awoke this morning to an unexpected sight: snow. A reprieve from failure. After all, I did not sign on to do this in snow, or whatever you call this slushy mess. New rule, new opportunity to succeed.

After all, I ought to be able to win at my own game.

Perhaps at the end of 30 days, I'll yet be able to say ... ftw.