2005-06-20
monday schmunday
and later that day...
overslept due to keeping sad frantic friend drunken company -- have what is commonly known as a "splitting" headache. I only wish I could split -- as in leave. School.
Overslept. Called the school to inform I would be late for my meeting. Left for the bus-catching. The bus arrived, in fact, two of them did, both mine, both with people on board. I ran up to the one closest to me, the back one, and knocked on the door. I don't know what the hell was going on, but the driver just completely ignored me. So, I ran up to the bus in the front of the line. The door was still open, but the light changed just as I reached it, and the driver simply closed the door and pulled away!! I couldn't believe it!! I was jogging alongside the bus, wanting to throw up, and knocking on the door, and he just drove off!
This does not happen in Montreal!! At least, it has never happened to me! And it certainly should not have happened when I was already late AND hungover!
Swearing and muttering, I began the 1/2 hour walk to the metro.
I was overdressed. In fact, here is what I was (am) wearing: grey small sweatshirt over white t-shirt, black mid-calf skirt, black socks, black and white Cons (so color co-ordinated am I!). My skirt is too big and so it constantly twists around while I'm walking. So, I was walking down the street with my skirt on backwards, and some guy is walking toward me, and as I pass him I hear "hey baby". What the christ?!
I am so not the type that latin lotharios check out, but apparently they like the feminine Kriss-Kross look. What a surprise.
This wouldn't have been so bad if not for the fact that I was hungover, tired, hot, and pissed off about missing the bus and being late. I thought to myself, this is the day that something flies out of nowhere and bonks me on the head.
15 minutes later, after being mildly harassed by teen male morons in a couple of cars, an empty water bottle narrowly misses my head. I think the cosmos picked it up at the last second and made it miss me because it knew that I would freak out and start lighting things on fire if I actually was hit.
And so, finally, I arrive at the metro.
And, the metro, is not running.
In fact, the power is off on the whole block, meaning that payphones also are not running. And because I detest les cellemaphones, this is problematic for me.
Back I go into the sweaty sun. Back 3 blocks. Phone call. Yes, I should still come in. Back to the metro. On a bus. Somehow miss the stop I was aiming for. I stay on the bus. Transfer to a bus that will take me back in the direction I should be going. One hour of bus riding later, and a whole lot of lovely sights, I arrive at school.
And there I still am. Headachy. Disoriented. Hungry. Complaining.
I want to go to the Lebanese place to eat, but last time I was there the habitually surly guy was actually nice to me and talked, and he is always working, and now I feel awkward. We can't go back to being unconversationally polite now. And I am not in any sort of mood for small talk with strangers.
I'm sure this all started with that dead bird and the crooked burial. Does this mean I have to dig it up and say some ceremony and put it in a nice little box and rebury it somewhere more appropriate than my garden? I thought I did pretty good not just chucking the carcass into the trash.
I hope I don't get hit by a car today. I'd probaby turn into some thousand toothed rampaging monster and tear down the city.
pansycline at 1:10 p.m.