Thoughts on being sleep deprived and riding the bus.
On the way to work in the morning I have been enjoying sitting in the seat right behind the joint in the bus that swivels and bounces up and down. At 5am, a lot of people who get on the bus have either been up all night and are completely fucked up, or are half awake on their way to work. I like to sit there and watch people stumble and trip when they try to walk to the back of the bus. Am I sick?...
I feel way more in touch with the world and the people around me when I am riding the bus. The other day I was all grumpy and tired, waiting at this bus stop. Then this lady standing next to me started singing (off key, none the less) very loudly to the music on her headphones. She was singing only the parts that she knew, and was dancing around like she just couldn't contain her joy. It made me happy.
Then today I was on the way to work, the bus stopped at a stoplight, when I see this guy holding a plastic bag and what appeared to be a stick zig-zag through the busy intersection with no regard to traffic, waving the stick at any cars that were headed toward him. I laughed to myself. Little did I know he was on the way to catch the bus I was on. He then proceeded to confirm my notion that he was completely fucking crazy. He entertained me the whole way to work by drumming on things with a large paper towel roll and making up songs, talking non-stop and very loudly about things that only made sense to him, and fending off people who tried to harass him by saying, "I love you. I'm sorry you're miserable". I love crazy people.
When I ride the bus, I am never late. Whether I like it or not, the bus won't wait just a few more minutes for me.
But as enlightening and entertaining as riding the bus can be, I am very excited to re-join the driving population. I am headed to Idaho tomorrow to re-unite with my 1984 Oldsmobile Firenza station wagon. Good ole Mable. She's been in the family for several years, passed from person to person as needed. My family has seen many a car come and go in her time, but Mable just won't fucking quit. Now I can go grocery shopping and start being late to work again.
I feel way more in touch with the world and the people around me when I am riding the bus. The other day I was all grumpy and tired, waiting at this bus stop. Then this lady standing next to me started singing (off key, none the less) very loudly to the music on her headphones. She was singing only the parts that she knew, and was dancing around like she just couldn't contain her joy. It made me happy.
Then today I was on the way to work, the bus stopped at a stoplight, when I see this guy holding a plastic bag and what appeared to be a stick zig-zag through the busy intersection with no regard to traffic, waving the stick at any cars that were headed toward him. I laughed to myself. Little did I know he was on the way to catch the bus I was on. He then proceeded to confirm my notion that he was completely fucking crazy. He entertained me the whole way to work by drumming on things with a large paper towel roll and making up songs, talking non-stop and very loudly about things that only made sense to him, and fending off people who tried to harass him by saying, "I love you. I'm sorry you're miserable". I love crazy people.
When I ride the bus, I am never late. Whether I like it or not, the bus won't wait just a few more minutes for me.
But as enlightening and entertaining as riding the bus can be, I am very excited to re-join the driving population. I am headed to Idaho tomorrow to re-unite with my 1984 Oldsmobile Firenza station wagon. Good ole Mable. She's been in the family for several years, passed from person to person as needed. My family has seen many a car come and go in her time, but Mable just won't fucking quit. Now I can go grocery shopping and start being late to work again.