Circle of Life

This morning commute is getting old. Bigtime.

Today was bonkers. You wait on the platform with about 50 people for the train, and when it comes rolling in you see the pleading faces of the people already smooshed into it, faces mooshed against the windows, begging you with their forlorn stares not to try and pack one more living body on that train.

And in I get.

After a brief ten-minute stint sandwiched between two older gentlemen not wearing deoderant, I get off at my stop, Stillorgan. At that time of morning, Stillorgan is a stop fit for the Olympics. People pour off the train and into the streets. At the first crosswalk, they fill the road, blocking traffic. We cut corners, wearing the grass to dirt in our wake. Girls in pencil skirts and Nikes overtake guys lighting cigarettes, and the throng of people part and flow around the smoker, like a buffalo with a broken leg.

I swear to God, I have never in my life felt more like a scene out of Lion King.

What made it worse this morning was that I was mooshed next to the door of the tram coming in, so when we hit Stillorgan, I was at the head of the pack. Let me repeat that: I, tiny-legged KT, was at the head of a very scary, very hurried pack of rogue office workers.

I felt myself long-leg sprinting down the street, peering over my shoulder every chance I got. The throng, a cloud of dust rising over it (I am serious), raced to catch up to me. I ran like a bad Woody Allen impression. I ran like hell.

So here I am, 9:45 and still catching my breath. Have a *pant pant* great Monday. :)

Kaitlyn is also in this picture because she too had a scared face on.



P.S.

In other news, I win the championship!