Today's Commute - Entry 1
So, it occurred to me this morning on my very SMELLY commute that I could unleash this rage in a properly, contained way that doesn't torture my family and friends with the same boring whining day in and out. The idea feels refreshing to me, because commuting is a varied, often hellish ordeal, though sometimes it is blissful (and those times I will feel welcome to share with others:)
This is my first entry, and I must note the older "bum" on my train. Riding to work day in and out, our senses and our mood are deeply affected by the other passenger. There's never enough seats, the ride is long and unpredictable, and we are all crammed together trying not to breathe or blast our eardrums out (drowning out the sound of other people's iPods). This older man stunk to high heaven like piss. He had his head down and looked to be sleeping, a blue suitcase next to his leg. At least he was keeping to himself, right? There is one man who I often find on the train frantically picking out the lice from his hair with a comb, hair flying everywhere and settling on the seats around him. I don't sit next to that one. But the old man today was harmless... I tried. I really did, and it's not even because I was tired and needed to sit. It just seems sad (and unconscionable) to avoid people who make us uncomfortable. But I had to give up.... the stench was too much. I stood and faced the other way.... my sense of smell eventually forgiving me.
Monday on my way in to work a man on my train - in my car - had an epileptic seizure. In saying that 'of course it happened on the one day I got a seat and the train wasn't over-crowded and I seemed destined to arrive in a blissful state (on time even!) to work,' I am only revealing the irony and humor in an awful situation, NOT making light of it. The train was emptied of passengers, we all had to trek out to a different line and continue on our way. But it was awful... I almost cried. I felt helpless.... The man had help, but I waited there for a while..... Some police were there but not taking any action, and the other authorities seemed to take forever, announcements kept being made for them to come. The man seemed to be breathing as I left. As I waited for the other train, I heard asshole MTA guys (hanging around for god-knows what) commenting (complaining?): "Someone has a heart attack and they have to stop the whole train." What an asshole I realize I am now, because I meant to check on that epileptic man, read the free AM paper or scan online. And I completely forgot.
See, this is why I need a journal. Because these times, which are so vivid and play such an important role in my everyday life will be forgotten otherwise.
This is my first entry, and I must note the older "bum" on my train. Riding to work day in and out, our senses and our mood are deeply affected by the other passenger. There's never enough seats, the ride is long and unpredictable, and we are all crammed together trying not to breathe or blast our eardrums out (drowning out the sound of other people's iPods). This older man stunk to high heaven like piss. He had his head down and looked to be sleeping, a blue suitcase next to his leg. At least he was keeping to himself, right? There is one man who I often find on the train frantically picking out the lice from his hair with a comb, hair flying everywhere and settling on the seats around him. I don't sit next to that one. But the old man today was harmless... I tried. I really did, and it's not even because I was tired and needed to sit. It just seems sad (and unconscionable) to avoid people who make us uncomfortable. But I had to give up.... the stench was too much. I stood and faced the other way.... my sense of smell eventually forgiving me.
Monday on my way in to work a man on my train - in my car - had an epileptic seizure. In saying that 'of course it happened on the one day I got a seat and the train wasn't over-crowded and I seemed destined to arrive in a blissful state (on time even!) to work,' I am only revealing the irony and humor in an awful situation, NOT making light of it. The train was emptied of passengers, we all had to trek out to a different line and continue on our way. But it was awful... I almost cried. I felt helpless.... The man had help, but I waited there for a while..... Some police were there but not taking any action, and the other authorities seemed to take forever, announcements kept being made for them to come. The man seemed to be breathing as I left. As I waited for the other train, I heard asshole MTA guys (hanging around for god-knows what) commenting (complaining?): "Someone has a heart attack and they have to stop the whole train." What an asshole I realize I am now, because I meant to check on that epileptic man, read the free AM paper or scan online. And I completely forgot.
See, this is why I need a journal. Because these times, which are so vivid and play such an important role in my everyday life will be forgotten otherwise.