I turned up the volume on my headphones so Alanis Morrisette would drown out the annoying subway noise on the hour long ride to my internship. These days I had to get up at an ungodly hour to take a a train, bus, and 5 city-block walk to the preschool I was working at.
Each morning, Ursula, my "other" roomate, and I would fight over the bathroom to get ready for our daily jobs. After awhile I gave in, knowing that the shower would be scalding or freezing - there was never an in between temperature- no matter what time I took one. Plus, I would've rather slept longer anyway.
So everyday I was late. I would hurry down the street, run down the stairs to the red line at Clark & Division and watch as my train was leaving the station. Then I would mope while I waited for the next one. Which- was always more crowded than the first. And the wait gave me more time to spend with homeless guitar playing man. He didn't bother me so much. But the guy on the CTA who always stared at me did. I wasn't afraid of him, just annoyed. Maybe he was just secretly making fun of me for being one of the only Chicago-eans in the new millenium to still listen to a disc man instead of an ipod. Whatever the case, I would usually pretend to read my book, lose myself in my angry girl music, and ignore all the faces and bodies surrounding me.
After that ordeal, was the bus stop. I once saw pigeons having sex at this bus stop. I was so annoyed I excused myself from the bird orgy, got some krullers from Dunkin Donuts, and wrote a satirical poem about my jealously of the two love birds. Later I sent a copy to my boyfriend who was greatly amused. And also a bit jealous.
The bus stop was worse than the train. It was never on time, and once, on my way home, I missed and had to walk some 16 blocks until the next one. The first time I took the bus by myself, I got on the wrong side of the road and ended up riding all the way to the Evanston bus station. I don't know if the driver felt sorry for me or thought I was on something. But the city streets quickly weened me into the life of public transportaion pretty quickly.
Once I actually arrived at the preschool, face beet red from the harsh Chicago winds, I was ready to go home and take a nap. But instead, I got to sit in toddler size chairs and try to get the kid with Autism to talk to me, the kid who didn't eat any solid food to try some Cheerios, and the kid with the behavioral disorder to wash his hands after going to the bathroom.
I eventually fell in love with these special needs children. And I learned a lot. Somedays were harder than others, but overall it wasn't my first choice of an internship, so I was just a little disappointed all semester long. Because it was hard to get attached to toddlers who all had attachment disorders. They were cute, and I wish I would've appreciated my time there more, but some days, to be honest, they were the death of me. And the commute was the worst part.
After the first month I became so accustomed to life on the CTA for 2 hours of my day, that I started taking naps on the train. One time I almost missed my stop. Luckily I never got mugged.
It got to the point where I was so tired every day I had a weekly routine for supper: Monday-the Gyro place, Tuesday-Popeye's Chicken, Wednesday-Jimmy Johns....and so it continues. One night I remember being proud of myself for not racking up my credit card even more, and made an egg & cheese sandwich for myself. I even had some leftover Ben & Jerry's for dessert. Ursula of course chimed in, being the health nut she was, saying she couldn't believe how much dairy I was consuming in one meal.
I said, "You think a slice of cheese & 2 scoops of ice cream is a lot of dairy?"
She responded, "Well that and the egg."
So thus followed an explaination from me to her about the food pyramid. "As you can see here Ursula, eggs are in the protein category." This is the kind of stuff she would pick on me about.
She also told me I was too much of a homebody, I needed to find a church to go to every week, and even melted one of my plastic cups on the doll sized stove in the closet sized kitchen we shared. It was an accident. Apparently so was ruining my muffin pan. And crashing my computer.
I usually just ignored her and watched more Alias with Seema. I didn't care if I was a homebody on the weekends. I was out every weekday for 12-14 hours, including classes 2 days a week, and enjoyed my freedom on the weekends. And the real reason I was a homebody? So I could be away from her, evil Ursula, while she was out doing stuff.
Plus, it was cold outside. Very, very cold. And I was happier being depressed indoors.
(to be continued...)
No comments:
Post a Comment