Has anyone been outside lately? Has anyone been enjoying the spring weather? Has anyone heard the birds chirp, felt the sunshine, seen the crocuses and daffodils and tulips poking their heads up out of the flower beds?
I fucking haven’t.
You see, it’s hard to be outside if you are stuck on a train, underground, completely immobile. This happens to me at least 20 times a day. I have begun to live on the subway, because the pure awfulness of its service is keeping me hostage.
I like to be as fun and bubbly as possible on this blog, but I’m afraid I simply cannot Keep My Cool any longer. This is getting far out of hand. I haven’t left this dingy, poorly-lit A train car since two days ago, and the MTA website still boasts “good service”. I don’t know what to do. The walls are closing in on me. Everyone has been nervously eyeing each other but saying nothing. A mariachi band has been playing La Bomba for seventeen hours straight. It’s still Showtime. Every now and then, the conductor swallows the mic and gargles that there is train traffic ahead of us, we should be moving shortly.
I can’t stop crying. There is mascara all over my face- my eyes, my cheeks, my nose, my chin. I can’t stop weeping, and everyone is looking at me. I am so hungry, so hopeless. So tired. My eyes are like little sun dried tomatoes, but I haven’t seen the sun in so long.