Monday, June 15, 2015


We leave for England later in the day.  Shortly before 4AM, my cell phone rings.  It's the car service that we booked to pick us up at Heathrow for the drive to Cirencester.  Where are we?  Well, it's 4AM, the phone just woke me from a deep sleep.  I think I'm in Los Angeles, no?  Well, the driver is at Heathrow, waiting to pick us up--a day early.  Once the fog of sleep begins to clear from my head, I tell them no, it's not today, it's tomorrow they're supposed to be there.  They insist.  It was confirmed three times.  The 15th.  I realize there may have been confusion.  Leave on the 15th, arrive on the 16th.  Somewhere, the wires got crossed.

Of course, by now, sleep is impossible.  My mind obsesses.  What time is it now in England?  It's an eight hour difference, but my mind takes me first in the wrong direction, backwards instead of forwards, working it out, four minus eight, it would have to be eight o'clock in the evening in England.  The mind whirls, reverses, counts back, counts forward, miscounts...  I have to call the car company back, but it's the middle of the night, no?  I hit the return call button, forgetting the international and country codes.  The call is rejected.  Is is night time?  Is everyone there asleep?

The mind goes into panic mode.  Will we have to pay double now?  How do we compensate the drive for the time and gas?  How can I make sure he has the message to pick us up tomorrow?  A muddle to resolve before heading out of here.  Wish me luck...

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