Morning, everyone!
:: acknowledges the relief that accompanies the end of suffering… it was like that when my sister and mom died, too ::
I’m settling in here at work. Og, it was an unpleasant day yesterday, one of those days when everything was a bit… off.
I left work at 16:30 to go see my counselor. I thought it would be nice to get downtown early and stop for a burger. I hopped on the #82 bus near my work; the bus made its rounds of the office park, then headed onto the freeway to go into the city. I fell asleep, as I often do on the way home.
I awoke as the bus slowed down. It came gradually to a halt on the side of the road. We were still on the freeway, just south of the airport. The bus had broken down.
We sat there on the side of the road for forty minutes, the bus rocking as eighteen-wheelers passed it a metre distant at 100 km/h. The lady behind me was talking to her friend on the following #82 bus… which soon appeared and passed us. Evidently it was full–it was the 17:00 departure, which I dislike taking because it’s always overcrowded.
Eventually another bus arrived, a #70 pausing from its normal run, and the two drivers and a visiting supervisor conducted us from one to the other. We squeezed along the edge of the road next to the concrete barrier and entered the new bus through its rear-most doors.
We were soon on the way. just in time to enter the regular 5PM traffic jams where the eastbound ramp from the 401 entered the southbound 427. We made it through that with the usual delay, only to discover more flashing lights and sirens.
A collision had blocked the southbound express lanes, and clouds of whitish steam or smoke drifted across the freeway. We joined the jam of traffic that was slowly exiting onto Burnhamthorpe Road, and eventuially made our way to the Islington subway, our destination. Time? 18:06.
We were around 45 minutes late. There went my chance to pause and get food. I had just enough tme to get to my appointment, uptown near Yonge and Eglinton after two subway rides.