“I can’t believe I missed the bus! Why do I always miss buses? How am I going to get there? I need to go south, now!”
Miraculously, got there I did anyway – what would have been a six-hour journey by bus became, oh, three blinks of an eye perhaps.
A small, intimate stage. The lights were dimmed, showering the whole area in soft blue. Second chair, second row, second floor. I was cursing at my choice of seating arrangements, but nothing else was more important than the fact that I was actually at a Daft Punk concert.
Then I woke up.
(Geewhiz, Miss Poptart, look what you have done.)