Transit

Hmmm.

I ran down to JJ Bean this morning for my cuppa right after running outta beans, then hopped onto the bus and train to get to work cos my trusty bike is at A-1 Bikes being pampered - spa time for the bike.

I could get used to this having fresh coffee waiting for me and a limousine take me to work.

Except for the rabble, the hoi polloi, the great unwashed and the overly perfumed who clogged up the lines to the coffee counter where the barista obviously failed her Maths O-levels cause she short-changed me, and then the crowds on the translink limousine...not to be believed. Do these people not know I pay taxes and other fees and charges for the system? Do they not realize I'm one of the pampered (delusional), privileged (verily so I am even if in the bottom 5% of the  privileged of this world) and cranky (in the top 10% of the cranky - Dawkins has nothing on me) people in this city who expect crowds to part before me, and to have private carriages in the train?

Except there was Dakota who was in the same carriage as me who almost made up for the crowds and pushing and shoving.

So - no. I shan't be taking transit very much - it's too much for my gentle and cranky soul. I can't afford to spend the energy on disapproving of the transit rabble. Pwoarh things, they have to use transit, I choose to use transit (just call me Marie-Antoinette). And yes, i do have a lovely, long slender neck so go sharpen your blades.

Fortunately, Verona coffee was brewing at the next place I stumbled into after being shoved around on the transit, but unfortunately not by Dakota per se.

Today - long meetings and rainbow coloured bubbles.

So what do i do now? Continue using limos and trains, or should I walk and smell the roses on the way? Discuss.

I sense a moment of organization coming up so better get to it and supervise the moment so that the organizing is centred around me, me, me.

Damn the banks. Damn the IRBs and Damn those grubby bean counters.

I'm going to go now. Ta ta.