public transportation is not my friend.

So remember how I said yesterday that I found taking public transportation "oddly fun"? I was wrong. So, so wrong. Let me tell you about my morning. (WARNING: rant ahead)

I woke up bright and early for my interview, got all dressed up in my business finest, and headed out to DCU where I was supposed to catch my bus. I however made the mistake (mistake #1) of not looking at a map and figuring out which bus stop exactly I needed to find. I walked past a bus stop at the entrance of DCU, but for some reason did not think it was the one I needed, so I proceeded to walk all the way through the DCU campus, seeking out every campus map I could find, trying to find my way to the street I was supposed to take. I looked painfully American. After about 20 minutes of trekking all over the campus, I finally made my way to the correct bus stop, only to find that it was the same one I passed on my way in. Perfect.

Once I was at the correct bus stop, I somehow decided that the big flashing numbers on the front of the buses are not important, and that as as long as you are at the right bus stop, you will get to where you need to go (mistake #2). They all go to the City Centre, so as long as I'm at the right stop, any bus should be able to take me to my next stop right? Wrong. I hopped on the bus clearly numbered "4," even though I had been instructed to take 11, and took my seat. I was supposed to get off at the Burlington Hotel stop, which is just past the City Centre, so when we made our way to the City Centre, I was quite pleased and confident that I would get to where I needed to go. Just to be sure, I decided to go ask the bus driver when we were going to arrive at my stop. It turns out, if you are clearly instructed to take a certain bus number, and you take a different one, you will not get to where you need to be. Go figure. Luckily, the bus driver was extremely helpful and took me to another stop, allegedly close to my office, and instructed me on how to get there. I thanked him and went on my way, following his directions exactly (mistake #3).

Now I don't know if I misheard him, he was wrong, or he simply did not want to be on time, but his directions did NOT lead me to my office. I happily walked for about 30 minutes, enjoying the vibrance of downtown Dublin in the morning, before I realized that I had been walking for quite a while and my office was still nowhere to be found. I stopped to ask somebody how close I was to Upper Leeson street, where my office is, and you can imagine my delight when they replied, "Oh goodness, love, Upper Leeson is about a 30 minute walk in the opposite direction." Super. Now I was starting to panic. I had about 25 minutes until my interview, and we had been told to arrive 10-15 minutes early. I knew that I would never make it in time on foot, so I decided to hail a taxi, which was not an easy process. After literally standing in the middle of the street and waving my arms around like an insane person, I finally got a taxi to stop. A taxi sent from the heavens. I gave him the address of my company, and he had me there in 5 minutes flat. We also had a great chat about working life in Dublin and basically became lifelong friends. I'm finding that taxi drivers here seem to know everything about everything. I thanked my new best friend profusely and got out, beyond thrilled to have finally found my elusive destination. I literally could not believe it, but I actually had 15 minutes to spare. I smoothed my skirt, tried to collect myself and recover from my near nervous breakdown, and approached the building.

Right as I was about to walk in, I heard my phone ring. Lo and behold, It was my internship placement manager letting me know that my interview had been rescheduled at the last minute for TOMORROW. I was literally speechless. I had spent the past 2 hours taking incorrect buses and running around Dublin only to find out that I had to come back and do it all again tomorrow. After about 16 seconds wallowing in self pity, I literally started laughing hysterically right there on the streets of Dublin. In hindsight, anyone that had been watching my behavior in the past 2 hours would have probably committed me to an asylum. I couldn't help it though--I found my situation just so purely hilarious. I had been so stressed, frantic, and basically a nervous wreck all morning, and it was as though the universe was saying "That's life, and it's all going to be okay in the end." After all, even though I didn't have my interview, I did get a chance to explore the lively and fascinating city that I will be working in all Summer, and honestly, if given a chance to redo my day, I don't think I would do anything differently. Besides, if I had known my interview was tomorrow, I probably would have just made the same mistakes that I did today. More than anything, today reinforced the notion that as an American, I truly am a foreigner here. I cannot wait to start working next week and truly immerse myself in this fascinating culture. I just want to be Irish, okay?!

Sidenote: there is an adorably charming coffee shop chain here called "Insomnia," which I think is the most clever name for a coffee shop that I have ever heard. I want to be friends with whoever invented that name. Speaking of insomnia, no matter how late I go to sleep here, I have not been able to sleep past 6:30 or 7. Oddly enough, I wake up feeling refreshed and energized, and with a little caffeine boost, have managed to maintain that energy throughout the day. At home, I need at least 8 or 9 hours to feel rested, but here, I've been running on 5-6 and feeling great. Jetlag? Adrenaline? Whatever the reason, I dig it. I have so much more to tell, but this post is already a novel, so if you have made it this far, a. I apologize and b. I'll be back later with a more fun post. I'll leave y'all with this photo that I thought was just too hilariously stereotypical to go undocumented.

I'll definitely be checking out that museum.
Later y'all,

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