I spend a lot of time on the TriMet bus. So much time, in fact, that I’m a little smug about how much reading I get done these days. Books, not internet. At first, I read news on the way to work, but that was just too bleak. (That said, I recently enjoyed reading George Lakoff’s “Understanding Trump” … but not while commuting.)
Today’s photo is of the upholstery on my bus, which reminds me of the beloved PDX carpet, only with 99% more paramecia. Which is fitting, because sometimes I share a bus with humans who behave more like single-celled organisms. On my ride home on Sunday a gent sat next to me and attempted to roll around on me, citing “arm pain”. I refrained from channeling my inner Liam Neeson. My inner Liam Neeson really wanted to tell this guy what kind of pain he was about to experience if he didn’t stop rolling around on me.
Instead I excused myself, stood up, and moved to the back of the bus. Mr. Arm Pain proceeded to grumble at me – all the way across the bus – for moving my seat.
And that’s TriMet life. Most of the time it’s peachy-keen, three hours a day of free reading time. Plus one of my coworkers takes the same bus, and so for half of my commute, I have an awesome seat-mate who doesn’t even mind if I doze off.
Writing from: my stifling study. Sticky temps here. Listening to: the hum of the fan and the faint rush of cars a block away.
I enjoy unwinding from an intense day filled with “how do I do this thing that I normally know how to do but don’t yet know how to do in this context” with this walk to the bus.
I didn’t see any ROUSes, but while I was distracted by hummingbirds I was almost mowed down by a cyclist listening to loud country music. Ah, nature.
Writing from: my study. Listening to: my hard-drive chug as it converts PDFs to ebooks.
Tonight I took the WES commuter rail to the MAX light rail home. And then FunkyPlaid and I went out for some driving practice because I need to get my Oregon driver’s license ASAP. As much as I love public transit, 3 hours of commuting each weekday is draining.
Zen does not need to concern herself with such things. She spends her days lounging in the backyard, as happy as I’ve ever seen her.
Writing from: my study. Listening to: the tumble-dryer, because as soon as the laundry is done, I get to go to sleep.
Despite this being a Deluxe Handbag of Holding, I pushed it past capacity today. I’m still unsure what I’ll need for a full day of work plus public transit commutes, so I am definitely over-packing.
Note to self: you’ll fall asleep on the bus for at least the first couple of weeks, so stop bringing multiple books to read on the way home. Also, you work in a library.
Writing from: my study. Listening to: “Es Tut Mir Leid” by Stefano Guzzetti.