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.