miss me?

i sure missed you!

now. down to business.

this post has two very different topics, but one unifying theme:

i am a transit commuter.

first: if i can’t remember that i need (fill in the blank) by six forty-five in the morning, i’m so totally SOL. like, for instance, oh, i don’t know, maybe the key to my desk that unlocks every drawer and cabinet storing ALL OF MY WORK?

yeah, hello monday morning.

because i’m so far away from home now, besides acting as a standard work desk and briefcase, my desk drawers and work bag look like a medicine cabinet and food pantry. i have enough supplies to be prepared for armageddon.

one supply i do not yet have on my person: desk drawer spare key.

note. to. self.

second: i have two new and very unwelcome friends. i don’t know their names, nor do I ever want to. they are two middle-aged women that show up EVERY MORNING in the middle of my commute. and they insist on sitting next to me EVERY MORNING at 7:30 am and chat very loudly to each other about the most depressing topics. probably the most depressing stuff that has ever been discussed in the history of morning train rides ever. EVER.

no matter where i’m sitting (and believe me, i have tried to move around and lose this crew. i can’t.) they spot me, and seeing that they have successfully identified their assigned seats, (for the uninitiated we don’t have assigned seats) they plop right down.

so let me break down why this horribly depressing morning train ride talk isn’t my cup of tea; it does seem to warrant further explanation.

first of all, i have never been, nor am i now, despite my insanely early commuting schedule, a morning person. i don’t chat, and i don’t care to hear chatter. i am a horribly insufficient human being in this regard. and forget it if i haven’t had my morning coffee for some reason. oh my god.

secondly, and definitely more importantly, i object to their talking points being dispayed so openly in public. they are seriously none of anyone else’s business. i have heard about how their neighbor was shot, and how their spouse had to be wheeled around in a wheelchair at hershey park, dragging the whole family down so that they weren’t able to ride all of the rides. i have heard about their drug addicted children going to rehab, and their friends’ drug addicted children who died of an overdose even after going to rehab.

seriously. this is too much for 7:30 in the morning.

and what can I do? politely lift my head up from my iphone (iphone!) and say, “excuse me, ladies? get a room.”

it’s almost amusing to reflect on what I was missing before i had a new job, sitting on my couch, trying to figure out what to do for the next two hours before oprah came on.