Week two in 'Fake Big Girl World' began with a case of the Monday's straight from the real work week.
Sunday Fundays are no longer allowed to begin at 7pm when a 6am wake up call is going to smack you in the faster than you can chase that shot of Jim Bean with a $7 pitcher.
Woke up, hung over (still drunk?).
Took a shower, in the dark. Went back to bed, in my towel, because 'umm duhh' those extra 7 minutes will make a difference in my day.
Ran out the door 15 minutes behind schedule and got to Longwood as the T was pulling away. Whatever.
A small child sneezed and licked the glob snot from her nose as though it was ice cream. Thanks for that, I think I'm now going to throw up. Hey small child, would you like to eat that too?
The T arrived just as mommy dearest was using an article of clothing to clean up small childs face.
Please be a seat, please be a seat . . . !?
No seat. Just the usual squeeze on the staircase, but today was special.
For today, I got to share that staircase with not one, but TWO homeless transvestites.
Oh, and it was raining.
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