June 25-27, 2001 — I don't have any sense of time

I guess it's Wednesday. Time is flying. Summer will be over before it feels like it has begun and (ideally) I'll be back in Toronto fighting the slush and snow in no time at all. This isn't such a horrible thing. I like winter. Although I must admit that my feelings about returning to Toronto would be less mixed if the Toronto Transit Commission hadn't decided to increase fares...

Today, I took an allergy pill for the first time in a long time. I felt kind of guilty about it. It made me feel pretty horrible, too -- exhausted but unable to sleep. It was a bad afternoon. I eventually fell asleep for a couple of hours, only to wake up to find my shirt soaked with sweat along with a vague sense of restfulness. I'm only finally waking up a bit now, three hours later. Damn this country air and its many allergens.

The only day I've been to work so far this week was Monday. I've setup things so that I can get work on my current ASP-based project done from home, and I feel a bit healthier with fewer alarms set for 5:30 am. The things I'll do for that wonderful route 200 bus...

I was going to leave it at that, but I haven't given a full overview of the 200 bus just yet, and I can't think of anything more interesting to write about. So then, the Richmond bus:

It operates only on business days, and is $3.50 each way with a $1.00 surcharge. I think it's the most expensive bus in Ottawa. It goes from Richmond to downtown Ottawa in the morning and from downtown Ottawa to Richmond in the evening. If you miss the evening bus on a Friday, you have no way to get home until the next business day. This always worried me when I was taking the bus while my parents were out of town.

Because the same people take the bus everyday, there's quite a community built up on the bus. When the evening driver moved to Quebec a few weeks ago, gifts were bought and there was a little going-away party that involved cookies and brownies. I had a homemade raisin-oatmeal cookie (although not without a slight hint of worry regarding the baking habits of residents of Richmond). It tasted good, in its defence.

Even a cynical bastard like me couldn't help but smile when the passengers at the front convinced the driver to pull over during rush hour on Eagleson Road so that he could open his present and read his card. A few weeks later, the driver sent a thank-you email to one of the women on the bus, and she printed it out and passed it around on the way home one night last week.

There's also an elementary-school girl on the bus every day. She asked everyone in the back of the bus for their names so that she could practice writing them, and then invited us to her birthday party. We were told that we could bring presents, and I was excited to hear that I would be able to hang out with her mother and her mother's friends along with my fellow riders. I also felt old.

It's interesting to watch as people start or stop taking the bus each summer, though, and to see what always remains the same. Other than the bus ride in the morning, my experiences of small-town life are limited to bike rides through Richmond, during which I avoid eye contact at all costs. It was easier to hate Richmond and everyone in it when I didn't really have any reason not to, and it's painful to admit that there are some people that I've a lot of respect for, even if I am counting down the days until I can stop waking up for the bus.

I'm trying to go into the office the majority of days of the week, so I'll be going in tomorrow and Friday. Which means that I should get to bed. Only to lie awake for hours, to be sure. That'll teach me for breaking edge like this with antihistamines...