I had a meeting at the med school library so took the Blue Line. After waiting for passengers to get off the train and letting the woman in the back brace with a walker get on, I almost didn’t make it — had to jump on as the driver announced the doors were closing.
Outside the CWE station the proselytizer was there again. I didn’t post about this, but he was there last time I took that train, around the same time of day. He looks like he should be in an aging boy band and even uses a hands-free microphone. Yesterday as I walked by, he said the Bible says “we should be fruitful,” so I thought he was about to talk about having babies, but then he made a transition and started talking about when your boss gives you an assignment. So perhaps he thinks we should be fruitful at our jobs. Good slant to take outside a medical complex and train station where most people seem to be going to-and-from work.
# 16 – northbound
Status: 4 minutes late
As I waited to cross the street, I watched cars turn (with an arrow) into lanes already backed up. At what point do you realize that the traffic in front of you is not moving and it would be best for you to wait at the light for a cycle instead of magically believe the path will suddenly clear? When the light changed, the cars were stuck in the intersection. The cars who now had the green light couldn’t get through the intersection, so those drivers honked in frustration. The ones who maneuvered through then sped off, desperate to make up those lost 2 minutes. I darted between the cars blocking the crosswalk in both directions.
A vehicle was blasting Take On Me. I want to believe it was the motorcycle and not the Mini with its windows down and sunroof open.
Because I was early, the bus was, of course, late. I unsuccessfully swiped my card twice before realizing it was upside down.
At my stop, an 18-wheeler was parked on the side of the road. The curb behind the truck was clear, but the bus driver pulled up to the truck, then stopped and opened the doors, presumably because cars were also parked in front of the truck and there was no where else to stop.
Which meant, however, that I exited between a bus and an 18-wheeler with a row of cars behind the bus and had to walk down the street before reaching a clear section to get on the sidewalk.
 I’m going to guess that Beck was the reason for the extra traffic. The Pageant was just a block away.
It was a fun drive, but the van, which I had named Homer, has gone back to my parents. It was too much for us — more space than we need right now and more money than we want to spend. I told a friend that Homer had a lot of extras we didn’t really need — like the automatic doors? he said. Oh no, we need those. I replied, although I spent half the time pushing the button repeatedly to get the doors to open instead of just opening them myself. I also liked being able to put a stroller in the back and not lose all my storage space and having shades built into the side windows. But do we really need the leather interior, the XM radio, the 5 or so seats we weren’t using, the seatwarmers (ask me again in the winter), and the rearview camera?
Because we’re keeping Ruby, we’ve agreed to get the paint job fixed where the egg killed the trunk last year. We also need to shop a little harder for a rear-facing convertible carseat to fit comfortably in the back.