... to a sneaky hate spiral today.
Seriously. Uno. Husband and I are spatting, which is crummy and leaving me feeling totally drained. It's not even a big spat - but I am le tired.
Dos. I leave my work badge at my house. I realize this the moment that the bus approaches, so there is no turning back. I'm headed in mega-early, so I know there's not going to be anyone at the office to let me in.
Entonces - Transit card begins making crazy-ass noises, throwing both myself and the bus driver into a state of confusion - I think there's not enough funds so I start to add money. Lots of grabbing, shuffling and balancing my three bags that I'm carrying. (Don't judge me! I like having a big lunch.) Then maybe, in actuality, I already paid? (So the bus driver and I discuss.) Who knows?! Okay, we agree. It's fine; move on. I head to take my seat on a very empty bus.
Sigh of morning-misanthropy-induced relief! Finally a break.
I delve into my book for a moment or two, and then I hear something behind me.
Empieza: flood of anxiety that I have to talk to someone.
¡Pero! I turn and realize it's my super-sweet bus-friend. We chat for a while, and it makes me feel even better. I'm getting a handle on this sneaky hate spiral!
"Wahahaha!" cackles sneaky hate spiral. Said-sweet-bus-friend gets off. All hell breaks loose.
Newsflash: The bus doesn't have heat. I find myself thinking, 'well, hey, it's crowded so we're fine.' Five minutes pass as we chug along and the driver realizes, 'Hark! It is not okay. This self-produced body-heat won't cut it for the esteemed MTA standards.'
Pues - We commence sitting there, parked. For thirty minutes. Waiting...waiting for another bus. The bus is getting cold! It's not moving anymore and we're not moving anymore. Grumble grumble.
¿Poorque? Sneaky hate spiral?!
But then. It's time to switch. And right before, I noticed there's a growing sense of 'holymother! -What-the-what?!' camaraderie established between all bus-mates. Bonding commences. And - it helps!
Example in -quote-form:
As we're switching from our broken-down bus to the fixed one (which will surely be full), guy says to (who I assume to be his) pregnant girlfriend: "J, let yo stomach hang out so that you're sure to get a seat."
They know I heard them and we all sort of catch a smile and muffle slight laughter.
Then, I was the last to switch buses because I was succumbing to the hate-spiral's victory, so I'm standing, and a 15 year old kid glances at me, stands up, and offers me his seat.
"Holymother! (Again!)," I'm thinking. There is still so much kindness and consideration in the world. (<-- Sounds trite, but it is not. Emphatically!) *Also, please note that I share in some of this remaining sense-of-decency and thanked the kiddo for the offer, but did not take the seat. Had I done otherwise, I would have been 'that woman,' sitting comfortably with her over-sized lunch nestled at her feet, while forcing the young, kindhearted soul to juggle his overly-large textbooks which are teacher-induced, as opposed to my hunger/glutton-induced baggage.
Eat that! Sneaky-hate spiral!
Lastly, a gem. One woman gets on the bus about five stops after most of us have undergone this fiasco. (So there are many-a long face.) She yell-talks (literally):
"GOOOD MORNING!..SHHIT! What's wrong with y'all?!"
And now I'm sitting at Caribou, sipping on coffee, the situation is, yet-again, temporarily ameliorated.
Record so far:
Sneaky-hate spiral: 3 (badge, transit card, bus breakdown) Ellie: 3 (bus-friend, new bus-friends, coffee)
..> And ready for whatever's next
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