Since receiving an unofficial warning from my manager that he "wishes everyone would come into the office at 9 o'clock every morning", I've been readjusting my clock and waking up earlier everyday. And I’m not just saying this because my manager might come across this blog one of these days.
The trouble of being a lady is, no matter how "comfortable" our shoes are marketed as being, they just aren't Nike's. And in the split second before the train doors close, and when you only have a minute and a half to get from the MTR station up to the shuttle bus stop, a distance that normally takes four minutes to travel, "to sprint or not to sprint" is the question.
I can't work out which I should feel most embarrassed about: dashing through MTR stations in heals and falling flat on the face, getting myself caught in the middle of the closing train doors, or my manager giving me a look I can't quite put in words when I walked in at 9:25 this morning.
- Tangy
- A part-time domestic goddess in the making, overtime couch potato in the baking. Travel writer by day, elephant whisperer by night.
