Instead of telling you the moral at the end of the story, I am going to let you know what it is now.
Don’t make decisions more complex than deciding what to eat for breakfast when you have just woken up.
Now I can tell the story. It begins with me trying to find a ride to the women’s soccer team’s home match against Dayton on Sunday. Finding a ride to the team’s “home” field in Loudon County, Va. is always an interesting problem, usually involving hitching a ride with someone associated with the team who is going to the game.
So here’s how I spent my Sunday. Don’t laugh.
9:48 a.m. I receive a phone call from Jason Guy, who works for Sports Information and does statistics and press for the women’s soccer team. He informs me that if I want to get to the game, I should be at the Smith Center at 10 a.m. (Yes, just 12 minutes later).
Groggily looking around my room (I have just woken up), I am totally befuddled by the conversation I have just had on the phone.
9:52 a.m. Since I have only seen the team play once this season, I decide that I really want to go. I hastily throw on some clothes, oblivious to what is going on outside of my cozy room in Francis Scott Key. I then start to walk fairly quickly to the Smith Center, noting in my dazed state that it is raining and sort of cold.
9:58 a.m. I find my ride and hop in the car.
10:05 a.m. Slowly, the cobwebs clear from my head and I realize what I have just gotten myself into. The game will not start until 1 p.m., and I have three hours of waiting in front of me. Add to that the fact that it is miserable, cold and rainy, and I am becoming quite upset at myself.
“At least I don’t have to play soccer in this stuff,” I tell myself.
10:40 a.m. We get to the field. Yea, only two hours and twenty minutes until the game!
10:55 a.m. I put the corner flags on South Riding Field. My feet are getting really wet.
11:10 a.m. I start reading selections from Walden by Henry David Thoreau, and I am getting pretty bored now.
12:15 p.m. After an uneventful lunch at Wendy’s, we return to the field, where both teams have started to warm up. I see Jason, who doesn’t believe I came to the game given the fact that the weather is absolutely horrible.
“I was considering just giving you the books and letting you be the official scorer for the game,” he tells me. I stand shivering in my sweatshirt and windbreaker, while everyone else is apparently a lot smarter than me, since they all had the foresight to wear 20 layers of clothing.
1:02 p.m. The game starts. Now I have something to distract me from how cold and wet my feet are. At least there is a tent over the scorer’s table that I can stand under.
2:45 p.m. The game is over, and GW has won.
4:00 p.m. I get back to the Hatchet, where I evaluate my day and begin to dry off. I am really wet, and I will probably have to throw away my shoes and socks. But I did get to see the women’s soccer team beat Dayton, and I have enough material to write a decent story, and perhaps a sort of funny column.
I guess it wasn’t a really bad day, but it probably would have been a lot better if I had just gone back to sleep.