Waking up, I immediately thought about later that day (I thought I'd be able to let it go, but it seems to mean a lot) and I thought about what it could mean; what might happen, and what the consequences may be. Looking at that guitar at the foot of the bed, I thought maybe every string could have a different meaning, every single note could define the day ahead: major, minor. Who knows what's gonna happen? (Then I realised I was talking rubbish and it was just some wire stretched across some piece of wood). Then I started to get dressed.ÌýBig day: casual? Formal? Maybe be a bit controversial, ya know, but that probably wouldn't go down well, seeing as this guy was like a jillion.Ìý When I was putting on my jacket, I started to think.Ìý'Maybe if I put in my right arm first I'll have a better day. Then again, maybe the left would be better.ÌýWhat if my day could be defined by the way in which my arm brushed against the sleeve as I was putting it on? (But then I started to think, "How on Earth is this guy gonna know, or even care, which arm I put in first? Or how the hairs on my arm might graze the sleeve?).' I'm not too great with metaphors; I just want some good luck. I needed to be there for 8:50am, any later and I had pretty much no chance.ÌýThis interview could pretty much make or break my career, but still, when I got in the car, I just thought about something.Ìý"What if I don't check the mirror? I mean, if I don't check the mirror, if I tempt fate now by not having the rear-view mirror straight, then maybe I'll get some kind of good Karma or something and I'll be rewarded with some good luck at the interview?ÌýThen again, maybe I'll use up all my good luck by doing that, seeing as fate will be using it all to try and protect me from getting a crash after I couldn't see properly out my rear-view mirror? ("You are now officially late, it's 8:45 now, so you've got 5 minutes to get to the north tower or you are done for"). With traffic and all I knew I wouldn't be able to make it in time, but still I used every last drop of petrol and pushed that damn car to the limits.ÌýBut then, for some reason, my mind just wondered and I started thinking about what would happen if maybe - "The light's green, idiot!" - Okay, there was no time to have some kind of reflective, metaphor-filled epiphany! It was 8:51, I was already one minute late, but I floored that damn pedal and got there as fast as I could. I arrived at the North tower and 8:57. Just in time to see the dust rising, the people running, the tower falling. Being late had saved my life; I guess I had luck on my side all along. |