I can breathe.

Today I was reborn. I walked out of my condo, left my sweet 4x4 in its parking space to rot and waved goodbye as I headed out to my bus stop to greet the day. Now it's been a few weeks since I have ridden due to circumstances beyond my control so today felt like the first day of class again. I'd almost forgotten which way my bus pass was to be swiped and had to reach way back to remember what time it was I usually had to wake up and get gone to catch my ride. I was met by a pleasant surprise as I approached my stop. They had paved a nice level spot that drained water properly and didn't leave me standing near fetid pools of mosquito egg populated pond scum, having to jump across the mud to board. Thanks Cap Metro! This is sweet!

My sweet, Canadian-built bus rolled to a stop on time and I got on with only three other passengers already seated. I thought, "how quickly we forget" but after the second stop it was virtually standing room only so I guess ridership has remained strong even though gas prices have fallen precipitously since I last wrote. As of this writing it's going for between 1.69 and 1.79 for regular. I only recognized Drum-Solo, one of the regulars who really gets into his music and then calms down to read his comic books. The twins with the matching rat-tail haircuts weren't there either and neither was my normal driver. Some things changed in my absence, but not much.

I got on and got comfortable settling into whatever music was on my iPhone, watched a Podcast called Food Science on what makes spicy foods hot and played a bit of solitaire to kickstart my brain on the way in to work. Perhaps my driver today was a bit preoccupied as he slammed on the brakes a bit excessively before making a few of his turns today. Slammed them so hard as to warrant a quick look up from my game to see what might be coming through the window or through the wall of the bus. People are pretty quiet on the bus for the most part and no one over-exclaimed profanities as a result of the unexpected jolts.

The minutes melted away and I had to remind myself to pull the rope to announce my stop. The driver was flying down the road on the long straightaway on the feeder road and I timed it as best I could to allow for a slow, steady braking process so as not to illicit the stares of my co-riders who greatly appreciate being able to remain in their restful repose without some procrastinating rope puller making the driver lock em up and skid to a halt ten feet before the intended stop.

I stepped out into the sun, breathed a big breath of fresh, cool Texas winter air and hoofed it all the way in without getting heatstroke. The morning felt like a vacation and a celebration of life. The walk in was phenomenal and I got to see people speeding down the road, careening happily to their destinations, but few were carpooling and it seemed that there were more trucks on the road but it was an unscientific poll so who knows. I felt great all day, didn't feel tired and in general felt much happier than rolling out of bed and into the truck just minutes before the morning whistle.

The trip home was just as beautiful as this morning although much darker and I'd forgotten how being in the headlights of cars can be quite unsettling as they roar down the road from behind, especially when cars with a wider beam seem to be much closer to you and you cringe just a little bit more than the more focused beams.