Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Crazy Train

If you know, or even suspect, that you are going crazy ... is that a good sign or a bad sign? Because I am pretty sure I am there or very, very close!
I was riding the Metro this morning, forced to watch some woman slurp her overly beefy thumb each and every time she turned the page of the newspaper she was evidently speed-reading, and trying desperately to concentrate on my book. Meanwhile, another incredibly large woman was rooting around in the seat behind me, grunting and squealing like a big ol' wild Snort Pig, kicking the back of my seat in a surprisingly rhythmic succession. I tried to hold my book close enough to my face and high enough in the air so as to block out all the picking, and tapping, and smacking, and breathing, and .... and all the stupid noises and sights that infiltrate my brain on a simple 40 minute train ride. Another woman was trying to sing loud enough to block out all the same irritants, or perhaps merely the voices in her head (really, who can be sure), and I am wondering when that little guy with the DON'T DO IT!! sandwich board parading around in the front of my brain is just going to chuck the whole futile mission!?!

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