the cheese stands alone

Odysseus? What a Wuss.

Since I'm bussing it via an unfamiliar route to the new temp job beginning tomorrow, I decided to do a dry run this morning to make sure of no unpleasant surprises.
As a wise man once said, make plans and hear the gods laugh.
I bet they wet themselves this morning.

My morning travel plans began with riding as far toward my destination as the GM1 was going on his way to work. Then he and I went our separate ways, he to his own temp job and me to the bus stop.
First thing I did was go to the correct bus number stop, wrong side of the street. Fine, no real problem there, except for the driver snickering at me ("Foolish mortal! Didst thou think to begin thy journey so easily?" Yeah, screw you, Charon.), just dash across the street, splash through a puddle from last night's rain on the way, and drop my purse in another puddle at the bus stop. But the proper-directioned bus showed up on time, I climbed on... and discovered I didn't have the correct change. Let me rephrase: I did have the correct change... at home, sitting in a nice pile on the counter next to the door. Oh well, this is why they make the bill slots in the fare box able to accept fives as well as ones... can't cough up the change, though, can you, Ms. Swallow But No Spit Metropolitan Transit System? Ah well, tis but a mere scratch.
I changed buses at the right stop at the right time, only to discover after two buses came and went that I was in the wrong side of the street. Again.
Cross. Wait. Hope for public restroom to magically sprout from the ground like the dandelions that were being encouraged by the now-dampening drizzle.
The right bus shows up, I get on. Happy me.
Time to relax a bit and read.
I've left my book on the bench at the last stop. Sad me.
Oh well, sit back and watch the ever-quickening rain outside the window.
The man sitting in front of me has been hoarding farts since 1956 and has decided that now it's time to share.
The bus arrives at the mall where I catch the last leg of my travel, only due to all the wrong bus/wrong side of the street fiasco, I have to wait thirty minutes instead of ten. This works out well for my bladder, and off I go to find the restroom in the food court.
The food court is open, there is the restroom ahead. Happy me.
They are cleaning the restroom and don't have one shred of decent pity for my overtaxed bladder, even when I do an entertaining dance at the door. Sad me.
Finally in a cloud of bleach and babble they leave, and I pee and all is right with the world.
Look! Another silver lining! A Starbucks right there next to the foodcourt! Ignoring the fact that due to rain and puddles I look like a bag lady with a bad incontinence problem (it was NOT, it was a puddle splash, that's my story and I'm sticking to it, and it to me) I decide to go in and venti my troubles away.
Two young Up and Comings are behind me, in all their suited glory. They whisper and giggle about the ragbagged wretch in front of them.
That would be me. Thanks, guys.
I get my plasma and sweetener it up to the acceptable level and leave... and discover that the beautifully tiled concourse of the mall is one slippery-when-wet fucker.
There I lay, on my ass, in the same puddle that's followed me all morning, wearing my venti mocha.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Especially when I hear the Young Up and Comings laughing their collective asses off at my graceful ass-over-teakettle.
Finally they approach, asking if I'm okay between stifled snorts of gaiety.
I answer them the only way I can think of....
(Sidenote: Everyone has a talent. Some people can wiggle their ears. Some can roll their tongue. Others can tap dance. I can throw up whenever I want. On command. A full out vomit call.)
Right on Up and Coming's shiny wingtip.
It was the first time I'd smiled all morning.
And then I went back to the bus stop, wet and stringy-haired and smudged, smelling of mocha and barf, and got on the first of my three buses home, and after an uneventful return trip, arrived here at Chez Cheese... to see the sun break through the clouds and light up my balcony in a lovely golden misty haze.
If I could do it all again, I wouldn't change a bit... except maybe to eat a little more breakfast beforehand.
It's better to give than receive, they say.