OMG if this guy next to me doesn't close his legs ima gonna lose my temper and ask him nicely to stop invading my space and pushing my bad knee into the pole.
Is there a nice version of "dude your balls are not that big, close your fucking legs already"?
While I was typing that the guy on the other side of the pole who was taking up an extra space by putting his giant backpack on the floor in front of the seat next to him just got up, so I moved. And big balls guy took the opportunity to slouch and spread out more.
God, this is a symphony of bad subway etiquette today.
Seriously, autocomplete? Guessing what word I'm typing one letter before the end is hardly helpful.
All these little stresses on top of the big stresses are, well let's just say that I'll be listening to Appetite for Destruction* later and singing along loudly. God help my upstairs neighbor if he comes down to complain. (*How fucking adorable is it the first sentence of the Wikipedia page for Appetite for Destruction? I'd like to think that if 1989 Guns 'n Roses were told that someday there would be an encyclopedia entry for their debut album, they would've responded by giving the finger to whoever was telling them that.)
Speaking of neighbors, thanks to the post office for leaving my next door neighbor's package at my door by mistake. I forgot her name as soon as she introduced herself and she's really friendly and remembers my name and now I don't have to admit to her what a dumbass I am and ask her to tell me her name again.
The one time I actually tried that, the woman was totally offended. We'd only met a few times and I had a cocktail in my hand. Cut me some slack woman who I had a cooking club with once but who I haven seen in years and has since forgotten me too.
So much for charmingly admitting I'm an idiot.
OK so roll call of the big stresses:
- Visiting the kid every weekend, which is awesome but involves a 4 hour drive. It also means that we have only 1 weekend day to do everything we need to.
- Toe surgery delayed until after my walking-heavy vacation. My podiatrist is going to hook me up with a new cushiony thing for my toe so that I might be able to wear sneakers at least. But if I end up renting a scooter or wheelchair because of my freaking toe, HA is going to be in serious trouble since the toe is all his fault. I'm not sure I even mentioned it, but I stubbed my toe on a suitcase that SOMEONE should've put away 2 weeks earlier when he first returned from his fancy movie business trip. I thought I broke it, but it turns out that I exacerbated a hammer toe and now I can't really get my foot into any shoes without owies.
Of course thanks to the migraines, he does most of the cooking and dish doing, so what the hell could I make him do to make it up to me? Make him do more than ALL the laundry which it the amount he does now because the competition for dryers at the laundromat drives me insane. He's offered to push me around in a rented wheelchair, so maybe that can be his punishment. That way, he has to drive.
And on the trip home, the couple next to me were performing Brooklyn Italian-American stereotype performance art, complete with play fighting of the verbal and physical kind. And an idiotic conversation about where the wife was going to buy a mushroom on the way home. Not a plural amount of mushrooms, just one. Apparently. The green grocers next to their subway store doesn't carry mushrooms and apparently this is such an ordeal that th husband even asked if she wanted to meet him at home instead of having him come along while she bought a mushroom.
I couldn't read anymore as soon as they showed up, but thanks to my precious Kindle, I could switch to a game, which they still distracted me from, but less annoyingly so. On the downside, you can't hit anyone with a Kindle, since, you know, expensive electronic device. And the rules of civilized behavior.
I'm starting to understand the appeal of suburban sprawl - less human contact. Who woulda thought that would be a good thing ?