Little Red Berghaus Man

Because of my dreamy and dogged pursuit of that extra bit longer in bed in the mornings (my snooze button allows exactly nine minutes), leaving the house for work is always rather a mad dash. Because of this, I invariably forget something (see: cake incident.) Usually it's something superfluous like my mp3 player, my mobile phone, or my trousers. Quite often it's my wrist watch. This poses rather a large problem since my job is quite a physical one and involves a lot of running about from floor to floor, all of which have clocks showing different times. As I work to a timetable and have to switch jobs at the randomly designated time of say, 11:50, or 3:10, this can be a bit of a pest. Luckily this is not a problem when I'm travelling to work as I have rather ingeniously (I think) adopted a coping mechanism which does not involve craning your head out of the window looking for landmarks with clock towers, OR *shudder* asking a fellow bus passenger the time. His name is Berghaus man. Or at least, that's what I call him. I can chart what time I will clock in at work to a fairly accurate degree depending upon which juncture of London Road I sight him. Rain, wind, hail, or shine he's there, strolling along in a red Berghaus and carrying or sipping at a hot beverage. Today I spotted him by the School of Tropical Medicine, which meant that either I was late, or he was early :P

Okay, so it may not be an exact science...