Thinking out loud

This morning, I wake up with Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud song stuck in my head.

Here’s a refresher;

 So honey now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I’m thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are

Being a hopeless romantic, the thought occurs to me that I too would love a couple of things right where we are:

#1: The 6:18 train to actually be waiting for me to board.

#2: To perform a contemporary dance to this song, in the Quiet Zone, during rush hour.

Ed Sheeran is quite the enigma.

How someone can sound like Michael Bublé and look like Carrot Top is one of life’s grand mysteries.

The song title, Thinking Out Loud, makes me smile.

If I did this more than I already do, I’d definitely be unemployed or incarcerated.

That’s why a blog works well. It’s thinking out loud, but it’s subject to creative interpretation.

I digress.

As I wait to board my big green chariot that leaves at 6:18, I make the usual observation;

Why is this train always not here but the one that leaves 30 minutes later remains perched?

Where does the 6:18 train come from?

Why have they not offered me any hot dogs or tacos?

I make a mental note to ask Steve next time we have a chance to chat.

That’s become a rare occasion.

He’s always being helpful and doing his job; it’s become quite irritating.

As I make my way to the train’s upper level, I notice some interesting new advertisements.

Peculiar signage that, once I take out of proper context speaks to me for different reasons.

I’ve taken the liberty of awarding grades to  the signage, because it adds depth for academically minded readers:

As a commuter, I can tell you the lie detector determined that was a lie.

It’s all I ever think about.

Getting from the armpit of Ontario to the Vape capital of the land.

That’s life, really. Figuring out where you want to go and how to get there.

This sign is rated L for lies.

Now this is a sign that speaks to all commuters!

It’s the pre-winter commuting soundtrack.

Not a trip passes without me offering to return someone’s lung they’ve misplaced on the floor from coughing or sneezing.

I’m not sure why I haven’t need diseased yet.

Maybe I’m just a carrier.

I give this sign a B, for Buckley’s, because that stuff is amazing.

I’m pleased to say that while I’m single, I’ve never felt desperate enough to pick up at Walmart.

It’s good to have options.

I mull this over.

It would be nice to have a first date at McDonald’s.

Anyone who has a need to build their own burger and ignores the value menu can be instantly eliminated from being a love interest.


I give this sign an R, for rollback.

If my new dating strategy doesn’t pan out, I can really apply myself and get a Master’s degree in babysitting from a school that interviewed me twice and chose not to hire me.

I’m remarkably unbitter.

I wonder if they will make Elizabeth Shue an Honorary Graduate?

Babysitting Blues would be a super cool elective.

I mull this over as I award the sign a C for either coddled curricula or cute kid.

You choose.

Finally a sign that gives me the feels.

Vacation is calling for me. I’ve felt that for quite some time.

I just need to take care of minor details that may include figuring out how to get there, picking up items at Walmart and completing  my education.

It’s a lot to ask of anyone.

I give this sign an H for hopelessly optimistic.

And, hilarious.


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