It’s um… Well… Watch it.
[Music from the movie もののけ姫 ]
I have decided to be rich. Because I don’t ever again want to sit in those hot, rusty, congested and terribly spaced, unsanitary, seat belt lacking, shock absorber deficient, tin can minibus-esque vehicles we call trɔtrɔs:
Well, not really; I’ll always use them, because they’re cheap and, as you know, I love cheap. But I certainly don’t like sitting in a trɔtrɔ, that’s for sure. As if the bone rattling ride weren’t enough, I always seem to get the absolute worst possible person to sit beside:
Sometimes it feels like the universe is just picking on me. Sighs. Well, at least misery loves me.
I found out this morning that I can hold my breath for 2 minutes, 1 second and 54 thousandths of a second. Not that that is singularly amazing or anything, seeing as the world record for breath holding is several times higher than that. However that wasn’t what I was trying to achieve; I was holding my breath because I would not allow myself to breathe.
I usually get a taxi to take me most of the way to where I work. This morning I was behind time so I hurried into the first one I could get (yes, I usually am picky about which one I sit in because, you know, I kind of want a seat belt). I quickly unstrapped my backpack and in one swift movement I was seated and setting off.
This was an egregious mistake.
Over the course of the 30 minute journey, my sinuses were raped front, back and side to side by the hideous odor emanating from the driver. My goodness; my eyes stung. As if that weren’t enough, he was a right chatty fellow who just wouldn’t stop trying to engage me in conversation; it was a very bad day to forget my earphones at home. So I just timed myself as I tried to hold my breath for my dear and precious life.
I’m not being cruel am I? I mean, you can smell like refuse if you want, I guess. But smell like that first thing in the morning? Really?
Now I’m pretty sure my neck is stuck cranked to the right like this.