Skip to main content

Wednesday, September 7. Rain, Rain, Rain...Wet Seats... & School's In.

Ok so. It's my first day back after taking a week long vacation. I needed it!! I went down south and thoroughly enjoyed driving and not taking the train! Sorry New Yorkers! It is what it is.  So now, I am back to work and I have to schlep uphill to the train, wait for it...wait for it... get on and stand up and hold on, just like before, only today was worse for two reasons. One, the students are back in school. Booh hissss! I'll never get a seat on the train now. And two, it's been raining for 40 days and 40 nights!

So I am completely unprepared that it's only 60 degrees when I step out of the house. Really? Just cause it's September now, Summer just picked up and left? Ughhh.  So I grab a jean jacket and rush out the door only to find that there are puddles everywhere. I have on cute little ballerina flats...you know fall shoes!!  And I need to have on rubber wellies or boots. I cannot believe Summer's gone. Just like that.  So the rain wets me and my crappy umbrella does nothing about it.  (Hurricane Irene broke my sturdy, expensive one as I tried to beat her home from work, because NY doesn't believe in shutting down for even the most hazardous and life threatening conditions before they happen... Nooooo that would be like being a whimp.  NY is no whimp! NY shuts down when it is happening.  And after it happens...)  Anyway, so I am wet. And cold. And my slippers are flapping because my feet are somehow wet inside my shoes. Un-com-fort-able. 

I get to the train and when one pulls into the station I board and look around for a seat. Of course there isn't one.  Finding a seat available on the train these days is right up there with witnessing (plug coming...) a Black Swann (an unprecedented event, for you slow ones...) Anyway, I didn't get a seat.  After all, the children are back in school and we all know how tired they are and how hard it is for them to stand on their own two legs, what with being young and all. I mean, look at their faces next time and you will see how hard they work at school 6 whole hours every day and you will understand why they all need to sit and sleep on the train, instead of letting the granny who has to keep working because she lost her pension in the recession, or the old man on his way to the doctor, or the pregnant woman, or the young man working 12 hours a day to pay for school he attends every evening, or the woman holding a thousand bags of stuff she needs at work.  The school kids are tired. They have it hard. Really!  (Rolling my eyes.)  Moving on.

So I stand up and hold on, my purse and my tote falling off my shoulders...(The train floor is one big dirty, New York puddle so I can't sit them down.) When we are halfway to my stop, a seat becomes available.  I run to it. (Now I'm running for seats?) I am so ready to sit down and at least prop my umbrella on the floor, when I notice that the seat is full of rain water. Sigh.  Wet behind, stand up and hold on with bags and umbrella, wet behind, stand up and hold on with bags and umbrella...  I prop myself on the very edge of the seat hoping another one will become available at the next stop. It doesn't. I balance my butt in the chair with the left behind rain, all the way to work. Believe me, it takes acquired skill to do such a thing. Perhaps I should add that to my resume.

It's all good, because I have told myself that I will not allow me to be in this situation much longer.  I'm just biding my time while the President works it out.

Lesson:  Until you can do better, you gotta do what you gotta do.

A Girl Changing The World

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Thursday, September 15. What A Difference Some SLeep Makes!

Ok so.  Yesterday I was fit to be tied...or rather unfit because I was tired .  ...In nearly every sense of the word.  That night, I went to bed earlier than I had in months and woke up without the alarm for the first time in months, as well! I felt well rested and happy to be alive!  I got up, kissed the hubby, said my morning prayer, fed Winston (my beautiful Russian Blue cat), showered, got dressed, kissed the hubby goodbye as he prepared for work, and left early enough to stroll to the train instead of run. That felt amazing.  I could actually experience the sounds, the colors, the breeze... It was quite nice way to start my morning commute; on time and awake . :-) Leaving early and all I arrived at the platform early enough to be unconcerned that a train was pulling away as I approached.  The next one came and I boarded. It was overly crowded but for some reason I didn't care that much.  I stood up like the majority of commuters (because there just aren't enough seats

Tuesday, September 13. It Has To Get Better Than This.

Ok so.  One thing I learned when studying public relations at NYU was that you shouldn't lie, or "spin" the truth to get the reaction you want.  I actually don't want a reaction, but wish to enlighten you.  In light of that, this morning's blog post is going to be straight from the heart, whether it is what you are expecting or not.  Seriously, it has to get better than this. Whether or not people will admit it, most of us are over worked, underpaid, ignored, berated, and/or exploited every single day on our jobs.  As a result, I would not be surprised if more than half of people working are fighting some form of depression.  As late as February 2011, it is recorded that there are over 45 million Americans with some form of mental illness including anxiety and depression. If you read the article attached to the link, you will see that is almost 20 percent of Americans who just "ain't right."  How did we get this way? As of May 2011, depression alone

Tuesday, November 22. She's Baaaaack!!!

Ok so. I took some time off from writing this blog because honestly, we've had a very busy season at work and I just didn't have time to write. How depressing is that?! (Other creative souls know what I mean...) But I am back in full effect and will soon have to catch you up on a few things I just could not pass up the opportunity to point out. After all, you can't make this stuff up. It is so difficult to be a germaphobe living in New York City. Let me tell ya. HARD. This morning on the Q train, this man was sitting in the seat in front of me, as I stood and held on for dear life, picking dried skin from the palm of his hand (How dry does one's hand have to be to be able to pick dried skin flakes off the palm??) and brushing them to the floor.  Now mind you, I am shorter than many people (all my taller friends just hush up right now!) and can barely reach high enough over my head to hold onto the metal bar transit placed up there for tall people... so I have to sta