Chickadees – long time no blog. Again, I hate that phrase with an all-consuming, Hulk-smashing passion, but once again, I must admit it’s the truth.
Another truth is that I’ve been dealing with home repairs for more than a month now; that, combined with the suddenly Arctic nature of the Northeast means that I’ve been relying fairly heavily on something other than publicly provided transport to make it anywhere in the city in less than two hours.
Am I a born-and-bred, dyed-in-the-wool Yankee? Yes, the genuine article, and so I promise you I DID attempt the two-hour commute song-and-dance (for reference, I can usually make it in 35 minutes); however, over the past few weeks I’ve been relying more and more heavily on cabs, Ubers, Lyfts and independent busing services to ensure I make it home before 10pm.
But because I am a perpetual optimist and because I am possessed of a fine and hearty Puritan constitution, I decided last Friday that because my grocery delivery was scheduled for 7:30pm and because much of my work was done, I would leave the office at 5:30 and brave the train.
5:30pm: Leave office.
5:40pm: Arrive at appropriate train platform. Wait.
6:15pm: A train! Oh, wrong line. Decide to backtrack to station where trains begin. Genius!
6:22: Arrive at new station. Wait for correct train.
7:15pm: Train is stuck in station due to unknown issue (incompetence suspected. Issue is also possibly that “man with shovel” is ineffective snow removal system.) Go above ground and grab a cab.
7:20pm: HOLY TRAFFIC BATMAN.
7:55pm: Jump out of cab at new train station, having paid $70 to go one mile. Wait for train.
8:15pm: No train. Decide to backtrack, get on any train, ride it halfway to the end of the line and then cab it home. Genius!
8:20pm: Wooohoooo, on a moving train! Phone battery at 40%.
8:32pm: Off the train! Walk 1/4 mile to main road. Phone battery at 39%.
8:33pm: Call an Uber. Phone dies. Huh?
8:40pm: CONTINUING TO BITCHPANIC
8:41pm: Uber driver arrives and has a phone charger. Threaten to kiss her. She laughs, but it’s not a joke.
8:52pm: Arrive home.
9:01pm: Grocery driver arrives, apologizing for snow-related delays. Threaten to kiss him too.
9:10pm: Groceries unpacked. Hooray!
9:11pm: Pass out on sofa, bowl of grapes in hand.
11:33pm: Wake up, confused, angry and having spent $100 to go four miles.