When I get very frustrated, I lapse into Cebuano…and this is the only word that can do justice to how I feel since yesterday afternoon!
I had mini-despedida merienda with a good friend and she, out of the blue, suddenly asked the “so-called” seasoned traveler, moi, “So you leave September 5 midnight? You do know that you have to be at the airport September 4 early evening, right?” Well, you would, of course, expect me to say, “Duh!! Of course, I know that!” I would expect me to say that---instead of the stunned silence and the hanging jaw.
No, Sireee, it didn’t occur to me! And for this silly oversight, I would have missed--err--nice airplane food! (?)
I could really knock myself on the head on this—especially as this is not exactly the first time I had my dates worked out wrongly. (Confession: I came late for my Davao-Manila flight last year—one day late, because I got my dates mixed up.) I also get my times wrong (I am not good with military time—why do they have to say 1300hrs when they mean 1pm?! Okey, please don’t bother to comment on this, I know why but I just don’t want it that way for myself.)
My friends, who know I have been getting schedules and dates mixed up (like expecting to go out with some friends on June 3 and then finding out later that I actually told them June 30.) , aside from being accused of dyslexia (can’t read time and tell my left from my right), are also now accusing me of on-set Alzheimers!
Anyway, all’s well that ends well—but wait, I haven’t exactly boarded the plane yet, so who’s to know if I get something else mixed up again??