Stuck here, wishing I were on the bus, rolling home, watching the Spanish language personal injury law firm advertisements on the bus TV. The bus has become, in my mind, some kind of escape vessel. And it's not necessarily an escape to Eagle Rock, but more an escape to the bus itself, and the freedom of the nowhere time on the grunting and sighing bus.
I drove into work today because I stayed up too late doing work and then had to race into work this morning. I felt genuinely bad about not riding the bus in. Every time I stepped on the Intrepid's gas pedal and felt the engine guzzle some more gas, I felt pained and guilty, and thought of drowning polar bears and Bangladesh underwater.
Maybe I'll leave my car in the parking garage and take the bus home. Later, not just yet.