Yes, my roses and hostas are flourishing, and that makes me happy. My little baby calla lily plantings are doing well, too.
But the reason I'm currently grateful for the rain is that I can walk to the store around the corner on an errand without once being begged for spare change.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Things that never happened to me in the 'burbs - Part 23
So, I'm sitting on the MAX yesterday evening, riding home from work, minding my own business, working my puzzles - my SOP. As usual, my seatmate is much larger than I, and she has part occupancy of my side of the seat, but otherwise, she's unobtrusive. Then, as we are pulling into Beaverton Transit Center, she starts to rise, and the next thing I know - WHAM! Her fist connects with my left ear.
She didn't mean to do it, I know that immediately. But, due in part to the fact that I was in Hour 13 of a migraine, I yelp in pain and my hand flies up to my ear. When the pain in my skull subsides enough that I regain coherent thought and my eyes can once again focus, I turn to look at her as she is babbling "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry..." I feel so sorry for her when I do. She looks so horrified I think she might cry. So I repeat several times "It's ok" until she seems pacified. Finally, I reach out to touch her arm and say, sincerely, "Don't worrry about it. I'm fine." A look of relief crosses her face, and she says, "Thank you." And she exits the train.
For the rest of my ride home, no one seems to want to sit next to me, not even the pudgy young gal who didn't look too happy when I got to the seat before her back at the Galleria station.
And I think, as I get off at my station, "Weird things always seem to happen since I started working downtown. This is the first time I've ever been punched in the head by a total stranger."
She didn't mean to do it, I know that immediately. But, due in part to the fact that I was in Hour 13 of a migraine, I yelp in pain and my hand flies up to my ear. When the pain in my skull subsides enough that I regain coherent thought and my eyes can once again focus, I turn to look at her as she is babbling "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry..." I feel so sorry for her when I do. She looks so horrified I think she might cry. So I repeat several times "It's ok" until she seems pacified. Finally, I reach out to touch her arm and say, sincerely, "Don't worrry about it. I'm fine." A look of relief crosses her face, and she says, "Thank you." And she exits the train.
For the rest of my ride home, no one seems to want to sit next to me, not even the pudgy young gal who didn't look too happy when I got to the seat before her back at the Galleria station.
And I think, as I get off at my station, "Weird things always seem to happen since I started working downtown. This is the first time I've ever been punched in the head by a total stranger."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
