My grand plan was to start and finish my Social Policy essay today. I told everyone I was going to do it, even though deep down in my heart I knew that I wouldn’t. When have I ever written a 2,500 word essay in one day? (When have I ever written a 2,500 word essay?)
At any rate, I have at least 10 references (that I have read!), and an essay plan, and an introduction that I am going to have to change, and about 300 words, so that’s better than I would have done if I didn’t make myself work today.
I had a bit of a panic this morning when I went to start work and I couldn’t find my red notebook. I always have a notebook and everything is written in it until it gets full and then I buy another one. My notebooks are full of all sorts of personal and impersonal things, so it was a bit disconcerting to realise that I had left it in the library yesterday. I immediately went to the bus stop (and stood there for half an hour). Amazingly enough, my notebook was there on the shelf on level 6 of the Fisher stack, where I had left it in order to pull down the books from the top shelf. Someone had flipped it open to the page where I had drawn a picture of a duck.
The bus trip home was remarkable. At the moment part of our route has been blocked off and my guess from observations over the last 2 weeks is that only 6 drivers from Kingsgrove bus depot have bothered to learn where the detour goes. I like the new detour route, we go down the back street of Summer Hill with big beautiful old houses and fig trees. It’s normally on the trip home, in the confusion inducing darkness, that the driver takes a wrong turn. He drives for a couple of minutes in the wrong direction and then turns around to ask the rest of us how to get back onto the route. Tonight’s escapade saw the bus getting stuck on a roundabout and nearly reversing into a couple of cars. How embarassing.
I was encouraged to draw up a list of reasons I enjoy catching the bus. Seeing as I am one of many who enjoys complaining about them, it’s about time I focused on the positives.
Things I like about buses, particularly my bus
– Opening the window in the roof thing
– Sitting at the back and dancing to my music when no one is watching
– The joy of an unused travel ten
– The community of familiar bus faces
– Ashburyans (especially you, Lucy)
– Eavesdropping on the year 11 girls from Fort Street and feeling my IQ drop
– The hilarity of the bus accidently turning down a no through road and then trying to do a three point turn to get out
– Stealing bus ads
– Heaters in winter
– Sitting in the luggage compartment
– The current detour route
– Bus radio
– Courteous commuters
– The IGS students
– The way you can tell who the new commuters are because they dare to sit in the seat-that-will-invariably-get-dripped-on on a rainy day
– People who yell “Back Door!”
– People who get caught in the back door
– Sudoku on the bus
– Quiet times on the bus
– Other people doing their quiet times on the bus
– People with interesting hair
– The way everyone moves the same way when the bus goes over bumps or turns corners
That will do, I think.
Keep in mind that for every good thing on the bus there are at least 3 bad things. I wouldn’t even know where to start with a list like that.