Riding the Blazing Furnace

I don’t mind the change in the weather.  I welcome the cool air.  Even if it means I need to bundle up or dress in layers.  The thing I don’t like is having bus drivers blare the heat as though it’s his or her sole responsibility of heating the entire universe.

When I lived with my mom and was working downtown, I would get on the bus and start stripping down.  It was a good 30-40 minute ride.  Just before we got to second south, I’d layer up again.  But the distances I have from West Valley to my destination are so much shorter. It seems senseless to strip down.  At the same time it seems I will suffocate if I don’t remove something.

I sit next to the door as often as I can – though the back door doesn’t always open.  I’m getting familiar with which drivers are able to deal with a minimum amonut of heat and which ones have to have the heat cranked up as though Roland is the driver.  I try to avoid their routes just so I can breathe.