Stephanie and I took the Green Line to work together, an agreeable departure from my normally solitary ride downtown. I feel like I've been tumbling all the way through this week, and that was at least refreshing. A heavy shipment of international mail that I had expected to cause me severe annoyance actually went out without incident, but I had to stay late anyway in order to finish Harold and Gerry's time entry. I left at 7, feeling wiped, and headed for Park. Against all odds, an E Line train was there when I got to the platform. A few people obstructed my path, I lanced out my arm to keep the doors from closing, and they shut when I was about two inches away. I then spent twenty minutes waiting for another train to happen by. It's interesting how the Green Line is so reliable in the morning and so, so erratic in the evening, at least as far as the E Line is concerned. When I finally got home, it was already late. I cleaned house, put up the Machete poster and a poster or two in the bathroom, and wiped down the kitchen. I scraped a bunch of stuff out from under the fridge with a long ruler: a functioning lighter(!), a few word magnets, two or three coins, five common beer bottle caps (Corona, Miller Lite, Stella, PBR, and St. Pauli Girl, as memory serves), lots of dust bunnies, and a mouse turd or two. Finding yet another lighter made up for the filthiness of the task.
Quotes of the day:
"No judgment here." - Ashley, re: my 9 a.m. sundae
"Today, my yoga teacher played a Cracklemore song and it almost ruined my flow." - Emily
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