It was on a cold Wednesday that I had managed to move my feet an inch towards the left of the curb more than I had routinely done, and sunk my fresh sneakers into mud that was just as fresh and disgusting. It was a chilly morning and everybody that I skimmed through with my foggy glasses seemed to be looking for something warm to hold in their hands. Little did I know, that I was right in front of a newly opened café that I had no time for. My desires got ahold of me, and my (not so wise) rational thinking told me over and over again that 10 minutes was enough. That I could make it if I ran. That I could be able to balance on both of my feet with caffeine in my veins, enough to even make a run for it without polishing my new shoes with any more mud.
So, that was exactly why I had to enter the lecture hall 10 minutes after class had started, see a red-and-white-striped tape across the nearest staircases, watch the bottoms
