Sunday, November 29, 2009

A different plan

I have been thinking about what happens when I get home. I was worrying about not having a car - oh what to do sans car in Brisbane?

I've been happy dealing with the bus here. Well, happy might be an incredible overstatement. Like, the Black Knight's 'it's only a scratch' or Katrina only 'being a storm'. I hate buses.

I hate the way that they arrive late or early. I hate the way that the drivers are rude and often don't stop for people - quite randomly, I might add. I hate that when they are 1 hour late and you passivly aggressively say something like, "lots of traffic?" or "are you the 4pm, 4.20, 4.40 or the 5?" and they just smile. I don't mind you're late if you apologise. Not that big of a deal if you just go, 'sorry we're late, we got caught in traffic' or even just a 'sorry the bus before didn't arrive'.

I hate people who sit right next to you when it's you and three other people on the bus. I hate the chav mothers who get on the bus with their prams and other children and take up the whole wheelchair section and then glare at you so that you allow their children to sit down. I hate the mothers who obviously can afford a car 'cause they've got a 500 pound pram that won't fit in the pram space and they just put it out into the aisle. I hate that drivers are too scared to tell these mothers that their prams are nuisances and should be folded down before getting on 'cause there's already 4 prams on it already.

I hate older people (not OAPs, but mid 50s people) who stare at you to get up and allow them to sit, even though you've had a ten hour day and you're on a full price ticket. I hate people who are too sick to be on the bus (there's one here who has a catheter with a pee bag that leaks) and make everyone uncomfortable.

I hate the way the word buses doesn't conform to grammar rules. I mean - it's a consonant at the end; it needs a damn 'ss' in the middle!!!!

Oh, dear me. That post got to a crossroads and took the left hand turn instead of the right, where it was meant to go - back to the original path ---

I was worried about being in Brisbane with no car again. I hate not having the independence....

No! Stop. No more rant. I was going to be limited in where I lived, what I did, where I worked.

Then I got an email. My lovely step-mother is going to allow my Dad to pay her the trade-in and he is going to be excellent and allow me to pay him back. So, when I get home, I will have a car!!!

I can live where I want, do what I want, work where I want.

I want to make a public thank to two of my parental units for allowing me to retain some of my hard-won independance on my return.

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