I take three buses to my first student. Every now and again, the bus drivers run an intensive testing period to see if the passengers are awake.
In short… I hurt… all over.
I was tucked into the window seat just in front of the conductor. The driver had filled up with kangaroo juice and was testing his brakes and steering system to the limit. In peak hour traffic, that takes some doing.
I reached into my bag to get my bus card out just as the driver grew wings to take the last S-bend before my stop.
Now I’m not gravity-challenged and I’m definitely no feather-weight. It takes a lot to part me with gravity. When I sit, I’m firmly planted. Not this time. As he took the corner, I sailed across, out of my seat, across the neighbouring seat, and into the aisle, landing in a heap on the opposite side of the the bus against the other seats. Gravity remembered me… with a vengeance! As I said, I hurt *hobbles off into the sunset… make that ‘sunrise’*
Great way to start the day!
I tend to stop and talk to the animals along my way and passing dog walkers are easy game. One dog came up to sniff and I patted him and chatted to him. His owner launched into an account of how she’s going to complain about the bank she was just at because they wouldn’t let her dog (slightly bigger than a fox terrier) in even though he’s her ‘bengala’. Now ‘bengala’ is a walking stick. How on earth can a dog on a soft leather leash be a walking stick for someone, who, incidentally, was walking just fine. I suggested, hesitantly, that perhaps if she carried a document saying he is exempt from the usual rules banning animals in banks, she may avoid problems in future. Apparently she has a document and they refused to acknowledge it. Now I’m an ardent defender of the sick, the lame and the helpless, but I couldn’t help thinking this time that I wasn’t very surprised that they raised an eyebrow at her claim.
Eh…. what a week it’s been. I’m glad tomorrow is Friday. I’ll go in, teach, then pay the rent and get my butt home to unwind.