None of the sidewalks are plowed, so I walked in knee deep snow for quite a bit of the day. As a result, I am sore in muscles I didn’t even know I had. I took a sleeping pill as soon as I walked in the door (about 15 minutes ago, and it’s about 2130 now). I need to get a good night’s sleep because I highly doubt that people are thinking about clearing the sidewalks any time soon. The bus was so full going home that I couldn’t reach the stop ribbon, and ended up about a half mile from Christ Cong, the landmark for my own bus stop. I was going to walk back, but the snow got the best of me and I walked to 7-Eleven for a Cheerwine and got Uber to pick me up and drive me to my door. I realized that if I waited for the bus, I’d still have another 20 minutes of walking through the snow, and it was worth the five dollars. So. Worth.
The sidewalk from the Landover Metro to my office is the worst. This morning was easier because I could see better, but tonight was just a long slog. I got a lot of exercise, though, so maybe stopping for a Cheerwine wasn’t the worst thing I could have done. I normally drink diet, but every time they get some, they’re gone in a hot second. I think it’s one lady (who is not me, but should be). I also got bread, peanut butter, cold medicine, and Utz chips in both bacon horseradish and jalapeno cheddar. It was easier to justify Ubering home if I had grocery bags. 😛
One of the reasons it took so long to get home is that I decided to take the bus from the Metro station instead of Ubering in the first place. The first bus was so full that I had to wait for the next one, and even then I was sandwiched between two very large men that had obviously either just bought weed or just smoked it, because the smell was everywhere. Just everywhere.
Every time that happens, I’m like, “vaping. Look into it.”
Since weed is legal in DC, taking the bus is almost always a contact high, as is walking through Metro Center to change trains. No, I take it back. L’Enfant is infinitely worse. When you go to the lower level to get on the green line, it’s like, “well…. it IS the green line.”
Always reminds me of my first contact high. Lindsay wanted to go to Numbers (Hashtags?) to see Ben Folds Five, and there was so much pot smoke in the room that I was choking. I didn’t know what it was, but I figured it out when I tripped all over myself trying to get back to the car.
Ahhh, the car.
It was one of the best and the worst things that has ever happened to me. I locked my keys in my car and I knew my parents would be mad at having to come and get us, so I made Lindsay call them. They were coming from Sugar Land to downtown (about 20 miles), so we had some time on our hands. The band stayed with us until they got there.
Yes. That’s right. THE BAND.
Since it’s been 20 years, I don’t remember what we talked about, but I do remember that they cared we got home safely.
Just like I did tonight, after doing what felt like eight miles of elliptical.
Oh my Jesus do I hurt. Thank God I won’t be awake much longer. It will look different in the morning.
I think.
Stories That Are All True 