Yes, I wrote one about yesterday morning but today was so different I just thought I'd contrast it.
I had a pretty good sleep. I slept on our living room floor because it's more spacious than my room so I wouldn't get too hot.
I had a much better rest. I got up, washed my face and put on a white t-shirt (and jeans). I learned from yesterday that this thin, white material will keep me from being fried to death. What I didn't think about was the prospect of it raining. And it did.
So my white shirt proved to be a mistake. Good thing I had a white singlet underneath. I felt sorry for my sister. She'd have to spend a whole day at school in her rained-on clothes. At least it was just a drizzle (ma nizzzle) on our way to her school.
Walking on Jelicoe Road was when it started pouring. My jeans went darker and my t-shirt started clinging. I felt sticky and wet and warm. Being warm in the rain feels weirder than if it was cold.
But I was totally okay.
Walking in the rain meant singing aloud and not worrying about any listeners - no one was absurd enough to walk around in this weather. I played 'Betty' and 'Coachella' (both by Brooke Fraser) on my phone and sang to my heart's content. I felt good. Really good. Like, really happy. I smiled and sang to myself and added a little skip every now and then.
One thing didn't change - I got strange stares from passing cars.
The walk seemed shorter. It's true, time flies when you're having fun. Especially if you're singing in the rain.
When I got to Southmall, this construction worker was like "Hey! You. You're wet." But I ignored him because construction workers creep me out (sorry for the prejudice). I made my merry ole way to my beloved bus stop. Yes, today, everything is lovely and splendid (except for construction workers who talk to me).
I waited standing because sitting in wet clothes is awfully uncomfortable.
This guy walked past me and it looked so much like someone I knew. So I went wide eyed as if to say 'omg! It's you!' and gave the ole recognition smile. But it wasn't who I thought it was. He just stared at me blankly. And he was standing to close for me to just pretend I was looking at someone else. NOTE TO SELF: Yeah, don't do that again.
He walked back to return to where he came from but this time he walked behind me.
A lot of minutes later, a bus came (not my bus) and the bus driver came out to have a smoke (I guess he was way ahead of schedule and had a few minutes to spare). What was weird was he gave me looked at me like he knew me and gave me the look I gave to that guy. So I thought he's probably a family friend from Samoa. And we chatted. He had a fobby accent and was very nice. We cracked little jokes and I was pleased to have company.
But he had to go and carry on serving this country.
So I continued on waiting.
My bus came. The driver was a female. Female drivers aren't as kind to me as old male ones. And I made my way home. And that's my story, thank you for reading.