I'm usually smug about arriving early to work. Haven't had the smug feeling for the last three months. I've succumbed to the peer pressure of arriving fashionably late. Lemme just say, it's addictive the difficult part is letting go, once you've done that, it's liberating. I've given up on alarum clocks. Three weeks back, I smacked the nasty machine right across the side table. It landed with a week smashing sound under the bed. I eventually crawled to it and rescued it from a lonely death under my bed. It's spoiled. No point beating around the bush.

The slack part about arriving late is finding a park. If you arrive before 7:30am, you get a spot opposite the nursery or thereabouts. Arriving closer to 8am would ensure you a spot after the psuedo covered car parks. After which time, you're relegated to spots either precariously balanced uphill or within walking distance from the dustbin. If you're of the brave variety, you could chance parking beside the curb.