:: Tuesday, February 26, 2008 ::
Oh happy day (well, morning)
I'm having a moderately good day so far. A speechless day would have been if my wife were home with me. A super day would have been if my wife had called and/or we talked on the internet. However, despite my sad longing for the love of my life, my day is turning out to be good.
Now, I'm not getting too excited about today yet. I've only reached my morning commute. Work still lies at the end of the tunnel, but I'll let future Ben worry about that.
The thing that topped my day off was my subway timing. The Manhattan bound Q-train pulled up to the station just as I was walking down the stairs; thus, no waiting. But before that, I had time to clean my apartment this morning, watch my morning talk shows, bought some groceries, and I look amazing in my work clothes. I'm even thinking about joining the gym, but we'll see about that.
Plus my journey home begins in a few days. Even though my mom doesn't think so, I'm excited about seeing my parents. And I'll get to see my friends amongst wedding plans and such.
So a good morning so far and a good day ahead. I have orientation today so I get to skip out of at least an hour or more of work. I'll take that offer any day.
I feel like Rev. Run when I type on the subway. He pours out his words of wisdom while soaking in a bubble bath; I pour out my words of sarcasm while soaking in the cess pool that is the NYC subway. Crazy how those things work out, isn't it?
Honestly people, I just come up with these on the fly. Not only does the subway make me cynical but it makes me witty and full of sarcasm. Yesterday I was contemplating New York fashion (which inevitably is world fashion eventually) while waiting on the uptown 5 train (or 4, either one works but the 5 tends to stink less) and I discovered how some of these fashion ideas get inspired and it is all thabks to the paparazzi.
In the morning Angelina Jolie wakes up and heads out her front door to fetch the morning paper; however, one time she forgot to puts pants on and walked out wearing tights and one of Brad's oversized shirts. Well, as soon as the door opened, the paparazzi took about 2000 pictures in the split second before Angelina realized, "I look like a giant moron wearing just this." The pictures spread like wild fire and all the teenie boppers thought it was the new rage. Thus the millions of morons walking around with underwear as pants.
I do believe these were the same people that made fun of the nerds in elementary school for doing the same thing, myself not included.
You know, I'm similar to paparazzi. I get paid to watch people shop; so do they. I get paid to videotape people; so do they. I get kudos if I catch someone stealing; so do they. Wow, that's humorous and sad all in the same emotion.
I just ran through the subway station to catch the express train because it TOO pulled up to the station as I was walking down the stairs. I have since realized that I ran through the subway station to catch the express train because it is faster but I'm already a half hour ahead of schedule anyway because I left early this morning. The underground causes strange things to happen. It warps your mind into doing unnatural things. I have crossed into the crazed commuter that looks down the tunnel to see that, in fact, there is no train at the station. I run through the station to catch a train that I don't really need only because it's a great feeling to not have to wait on a train.
Fast forward thirty minutes.
I didn't even have to wait on the 6 train. I had just enough time to walk to the platform, buy a Post and a snapple, and then hop on the train. I'm really getting creeped out now.
My work day is set to begin soon so I must wrap up my morning commute blog post. Writing is defiantely a better way to spend my commute than staroing out the window at passing steel columns and grafitti. I might just make this a routine.
God is good. All the time.
:: Ben 12:04 PM [+] ::