Tuesday, September 30th.  The time? 10:30 A.M I had 30 minutes to get to class.

I was rushing to get on the F train from Hunter College. You might be thinking how and why I ended up in this most unfortunate situation. You see, because I started class at 11 A.M that day, I thought I would’ve been able to get some breakfast with my friends at Hunter and still make it to class in time, provided I left by 10:30. The breakfast was a success. Four of my close friends and I had an extremely entertaining and greasy breakfast at the local Golden Arches, reminiscing and laughing the time away. When it became time to leave, though, I realized that I would have to take the F from Hunter back a couple of stops in order to catch either the A or the D train to CCNY. Realizing I might actually be late to class, I panicked. I hurriedly said goodbye and vanished into the bowels of the subway station.

I was speed-walking, determined not to be late. With each step I took towards the turnstile, I got more and more hopeful.

My mind was focused on the single goal of getting to class on time.

I might not be late after all!! Yes!!

And then all of a sudden, BOOM!! I felt a sickening crunch in my stomach.

I had forgotten to swipe my MetroCard and walked straight into the turnstile.

(For those of you who are curious, I was, in fact, not only late, but very late, close to 30 minutes.)