This morning I find myself appreciating my commute.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe it’s because the Jays won (more on that later) maybe I’m still asleep and this blog post will self destruct in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1….
It’s rude to have a blog and not provide context, so allow me to explain.
I commute everyday to work. In the land far, far away, better known as Etobicoke, The West End, New Toronto, Vaping Capital of Southern Ontario.
As Hamilton is to Money Marts, Dollaramas and Tim Hortons, Etobicoke is to Vaping.
I literally pass by 4 shops on my way to work.
In order to get to Vape Central, I take a train from Panem (Oakville) which makes two stops until we get to my stop, Long Branch.
Good old Long Branch station.
My little slice of heaven.
At this point, I’m unclear if I’m being sarcastic or sincere, proof that this blog content is unscripted and surprises me.
This thing really writes itself.
Long Branch station is a gong show. (Sincere has prevailed!)
Not more than 6 Lilliputians or 2 humans have the ability to sit inside the station, because there’s one bench.
One is an ongoing theme for this location.
There’s one Customer Service Ambassador at all times, even during rush hour.
There’s one outdoor screen that’s supposed to tell you the train times, so that you don’t have to go through the station and trip on the Lilliputians.
There also happens to be one excuse for said screen being out of order.
The one bird made a nest inside and destroyed the wires.
One single sabateur.
The one Customer Service Ambassador said to the one disenchanted commuter that one day, it will get repaired.
One day I will get a tattoo.
(And we’re back to being sarcastic!)
Since I started commuting, I would take the alleged 4:34 train westbound.
My commuting counterparts, heading eastbound would be waiting for their alleged 4:43.
I always wanted to videotape myself serenading these opposite way commuters with Adele’s “Hello from the other side….”
Let me be clear. I would have already done this if I was certain they’d sing the next line.
They don’t look like joiners.
To be fair, I don’t even know what the next line is, but enough self degradation for one post.
Once spring had sprung, I noticed an interesting phenomenon across the tracks.
More interesting than Gulliver, there were people in blue shirts and hats and jerseys…heading into the land far, far, far away…
A tribe of sorts.
They were Blue Jays fans!
I had instant envy. What a novel idea, instead of going home in my after work catatonic state, why not follow the Smurfs and catch a ballgame?!?!
I was determined to be one of those blue people and make it to the game.
Yesterday, I did just that.
I was on the other side!
I was a blue person!
I was thinking ‘why did I pick the hottest day ever to see a game?’
I was ok with that.
The train arrives and it’s packed. And loud.
Lots of angry birds on this vessel.
The train makes it to Union Station.
And it’s pandemonium. It’s rush hour.
One massive amount of humanity.
All needing to travel in multiple directions.
I navigate through the angry birds, but it’s a lot of work.
I’m exhausted just getting out of Union.
But I made it to the game.
Baseball makes everything better.
Especially when your team wins.
On the long ride home, I have lots of time to mull things over.
Sometimes things are revealed to you in a slower, revealing sense.
During my recent job search, I interviewed a couple time for roles that would replicate this commute into “Real Toronto” each day.
The jobs were both fantastic opportunities, but this high intensity commute would have gnawed at soul.
The universe has taught me a lesson.
Be thankful for your commute.
One day at a time.