Just to get a coffee, bread and butter, I have a 1.5 mile trek
plus 5 flights up to the apartment.
(I do have an elevator in my building but since I am intent on eating fresh from the oven bread + a stick of butter I
elect the stairs.)
It’s the little things. Little things like a coffee.
A simple thing I take for granted in my normal daily life can require genuine effort here (the fact my husband makes freshly ground café and delivers me a pint glass full every morning helps). Without a personal barista (or coffee
pot), it takes a walk, usually a line to order, a line to pay, and a line to pick up. That’s 40 minutes for a simple no-frills coffee.
Lady, seriously, did you just stop walking at the bottom of the stairs? You just stopped – bam.
Do you not realize that there are hundreds of people behind you & all of us are now log jammed because you decided to stop and look around? Dammmmmiitttttt ---there’s the train. Bump – yup; that’s me moving you and your big ass backpack out of the way. The train is slammed bringing home the phrase sardine can. Doors open. Hordes of people are loading, cramming in, tighter and tighter, squish squash. I really do not like the person cemented at the doorway perfectly uncaring of all the people who are trying to get by. I have pushed her out of the train in my mind. The dude next to me is playing video games on his smartphone. I can’t hear his cannons booming - he's got his earbuds in, thankfully - but he’s violent with his elbows and fingers all furiously getting into the war game. If he elbows me one more time I’m going to stomp on his foot with my stilleto and then I'll smile a fake "sorry "(not) smile …
My commute at home in Raleigh? I realize now how spoiled I am. I walk a few steps out of my house, open my car door, crank up, back out, drive 4 miles to my office, park in my reserved parking space, walk 50 yards (max) to my office, and I'm done.
But, here? By the time I get to the law school, I’m murderous, sweaty, dirty, exhausted, late, frazzled, impatient, and I’m supposed to learn something about sweatshops and knockoffs.
Oh how I wish Walter were here and that I had some pink pills.