Yesterday did present its problems to her, but it's yet another learning experience. Whenever she informs me of something that has gone awry, I comment to her that despite what the occasion and the outcome of any event, good or bad, it represents a learning experience. And she, having heard that little bromide from me over the years of her life, remains unimpressed; the phrase, in fact, is detestable to her. I must remember that and attempt to restrain myself.

Friday night, anticipating she would have to get up extra-early to catch that 6:30 am. departure from the Toronto bus terminal, she turned in at nine. Her room mate, a young woman from Moscow, had already left, having written her last exam two days earlier. She would be staying with an aunt living in Montreal until classes resumed at University of Toronto. Until, that is, they could once again take up residence at the university residence they were staying in. The residence would be closed from 21 December to 4 January. University students living there, many of whom were international students, would have to find other, temporary accommodation if they were unable to return home for the holidays.

So, having turned in early on Friday night, she was awoken intermittently until 2:00 am by the thumps emanating from the room directly on the floor above. A not unusual occurrence, and one she couldn't complain of too vehemently given hers and Christine's often rambunctious little get-togethers with their own friends on their floor in their room from time to time which elicited complaints from others about the exuberant noise they tended to make.

From two in the morning to the time she had set her alarm would still leave her with a few hours of sleep time, she reasoned. And then it happened; the loud, sharp signals and notice that the building was being evacuated for a fire drill. Not exactly a fire drill. She recalled with a kind of grim humour that only a few days earlier she had joked to some of her friends that all they needed now was for someone to trigger a fire alarm before the building emptied of its residents.

And so, it appears that someone up on the tenth floor did just that, the stupid clown. Down they went, all those drowsy-headed students who hadn't yet left for the holidays, to stand listlessly out in the cold, inadequately dressed, awaiting the signal to allow them to re-enter the building and escape from the dark cold; that all was well, after all; no fire just some stupid prank.

After that, despite being so tired, sleep came hard through her agitated state, but it did eventually overtake her. And next thing she knew was the realization that her alarm hadn't gone off as scheduled, and she was much, much later than would make it feasible that she could reach the bus station a very short walk from the residence, at the designated time.

She humped her rolling suitcase along the sidewalk behind her, her backpack pressing into her shoulders, her purse slipping off her shoulder, cursing the time. She arrived at the crowded station a full hour after the departure of her scheduled bus. Appealing to the station attendants gained her the reassurance she was desperately seeking; she would be scheduled for a 11:30 bus, so she could just return to the residence or wait it out there at the bus station.

She had already signed out of the residence and returned her key so that option wasn't available. She bought herself a muffin from a little kiosk at the station, sipped at her water bottle, called her mother and then her grandparents with the glad tidings.