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Dec. 5th, 2002

I think commuting is turning me into a sociopath. I spent the whole trip in this morning on edge, barely resisting the urge to start hurting people who "pushed" in front of me. I was working so hard at being enraged, I managed to give myself a splitting headache.

I am more calm now, but I wish I had some Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits to listen to.


Dec. 5th, 2002 09:12 am (UTC)
I get more angry about the feeling of wasted time rather than commuting itself. I get really angry if I commute in and something is canceled (ie. a class), because then I feel like I could actually be using the time for something productive, like my thesis-related work.
Dec. 5th, 2002 09:56 am (UTC)
See, time is the centre of the frustration. If I miss even one of my transportation hookups by a few seconds, it causes me several minutes of delay.

Today, I missed the bus at Moore by about 15 seconds; if the light had been green instead of red, I'd have made it. Then, at St. Clair, a woman with a suitcase of wheels pushed in front of me, causing me to miss the train that was in the station. I then ended up having to wait a few minutes at Yonge and Bloor for my connecting train. And when I got to Islington, I got up the stairs in time to see a bus drive away.

Add to this the fact that there have been some ominous official e-mails lately about being late for work in our team, and you have a recipe for early morning stress. Mmmm, sleepy rage.
Dec. 5th, 2002 10:46 am (UTC)
And that butterfly in Havana flapping it's wings caused the wind to blow the snow storm out over the lake rather than onto the GTA. Which in turn didn't slow down the Moore bus long enough for it to catch the red light.
Dec. 5th, 2002 01:01 pm (UTC)
Stupid Butterfly! I'll wring it's scrawny little neck!
Dec. 6th, 2002 11:07 am (UTC)
I have a new movie idea: "Run, Curgoth, Run"

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