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.
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