Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Some jobs are harder than others.

For example, I would rather put knitting needles through my eyeballs before working one shift of a: wal-mart greeter, bikini waxer, high school guidance counselor, rent-a-cop, lunch lady, drug runner, podiatrist (god, gross), dmv employee...

but above all -- my limbs, sight, and sense of hearing would have to be on the line before I would even remotely consider driving one Chapel Hill bus route. The local friendly UNC bus transit drivers surpass all the patience, zen, and kindness of monks, buddha, the entire hare krishna movement, and jesus, combined, multiplied by 100.

Their job entails dealing with the precedents of some of my most unfounded nightmares, for the entire duration of their shift. Nightmare #1: everyone from the town crazies, professors, undergrads, grads, blue/white collar workers - the social demographic gamut, standing behind your chair and making inane conversation with you whether you want it or not. I mean, not only do you have to possess the uncanny ability to converse to all levels of life at a smooth, flowing, non-awkward pace, but be a willing conversant - which not only can these drivers pull off, but they always seems so pleased and engaged to participate in these trite rider-self serving conversations. Especially impressive is when you get the urine crusted unwashed maybe homeless guy conversations rolling, these guys tend to yell - senseless things, and when they sputter and scream in the ears of these drivers, the driver responds with a good natured laugh and then says something nicer that I couldn't have mustered up if I was given years - "oh George, will I be letting you off at Timberlyne today or are you going to ride with me for awhile?" these bus drivers, saints! Honestly, I get insanely bent out of shape just having to share my seat with someone when the bus gets packed, forced conversation to boot would have me shelling out the $6 parking fee daily.

Whilst making meaningless banter with anyone who so chooses to chew your ear off (kill me), UNC bus drivers are also miraculously capable of simultaneously driving through campus. Nightmare #2. I drive through campus in an otherwise small vehicle, by myself, terrified to change lanes, and still have a hard time not clipping 6 pairs of heels, 3 cars, a dog or two, and more often than not, my patience wears thin about 1.5 min (200 ft) into my campus traverse and I find myself gunning the engine when someone looks like they are even kind of contemplating the crosswalk, don't even think about it, I'm obviously not slowing down for you. Add one passenger to my car, a good song on sirius, a thought in my head, its honestly a miracle if I make it to my destination leaving the living and unliving unscathed. Oh and - to make the commute extra fun, lets not forget the ongoing construction that has left the 2-lane roads just wide enough for a bike and pile on lots of orange vested men standing around and contemplating where the next really inconvenient orange plastic fence will be located in their plot to ultimately construct the road obstacle course from hell.

Now. Man that shit in a vehicle bigger than the road, with no stopping, going, or turning power, packed to the gills with people (nightmare #3, being packed into an enclosed area with other people who breathe and cough and make weird throat noises with no means of escape), who insist on continuously talking (screaming dumb shit) over each other (nightmare #4), pressed up against each other and still moving around (nightmare #5), talking to you (nightmare #6), demanding to get off, demanding to get on, 5:00 traffic that starts at 3 and ends at 7 (nightmare #7), pedestrians amuck in the road (nightmare #8), orange vested men (nightmare #9), orange plastic fences (nightmare #10), orange vested men with walkies and a stop sign (nightmare #11), and the frenzy of stoplights every 50 ft that are somehow, always red (nightmare #12). Oh right, and you are kind of on a strict time schedule.

and to manage all of this *and still not loose patience. or lives. or your job. or your sanity. all day long -- maneuvering in and out, chatting, whistling, smiling, greeting, laughing, waving at your fellow en route bus drivers, no one, really, can humanly maintain this disposition under these circumstances.....*


Sunday, March 8, 2009

this is going to hurt tomorrow.

After spending infinitesimally more cumulative time in the hospital over the past three months than either the gym or my bike combined, and after dropping almost 10% of my body weight, and after surgery, and after 100's of needle sticks, and IVs, and ER visits, and too many melt downs--and being so supremely out of shape that walking 30 min yesterday made my calves ungodly sore today -- dude, I just got on my bike for the first time in months and dragged my skeletal ass up and down 20 miles worth of man eating hills.



yeah. it was kind of that victorious.

and my skeletal ass, oh god, I may not be able to sit for a week.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

the perils of slowly losing it.

If everyone wanted to just come stand around my hospital bed and look as morose as humanly possible while I played this on loop, it would kind of make my day. I mean, it wouldn't because I think I have successfully managed to go off the deep end this time, but the amusement potential would be greater than my joy of being able to surpass my previous pee hat volume record. I told my nurse about how fulfilling I find it to make it past the 650 cc mark on my urine hat, inclined to believe that if she couldn't relate, she could at least appear supportive. I was sadly disappointed when I only got a nervously confused chuckle in response as she flushed my big achievement of the day down the pipes. I took it as a sign she didn't want to know that was the most I had managed to pee all at once since I arrived Saturday, effectively beating my other urine output highscores, or how I had been holding it in all day until the cusp of imminent bladder explosion, so it was a hard worked for - and therefore well earned victory. HUMOR ME LADY. god. some nurse.

Well, I have a potential record beating amount of liquids just waiting to be ingested - I'm going for 700 cc - wish me luck, better yet, wish for my release before I end up in the psych ward.




p.s. this is really neither here nor there, I just wanted you to feel sorry for me over the fact that in the past four days I have been here, they have tried to insert an I.V. in me 11, yes that's right, eleven, ELEVEN, different times. Guess how great that felt. it didn't.