Yesterday I felt fine. I left work with a fellow new employee and we chatted our way to Park Street. We continued our conversation standing on the red line. I was in front of a young man with dread locks as long as he was tall. His stop arrived first and I heard in my ear, “excuse me, Sweetheart!”. I gushed a surprised ‘you’re welcome’, ‘thank you’ and something about turning 50. I noticed the crosses around his neck as he walked by and wished we had time to talk.
Today I feel miserable. I left work with a summer cold and a resting bitch face (RBF). I didn’t even want to look in anyone’s direction all the way to the underground. When I sat on the subway car behind the driver I noticed he looked as tired as I felt. He couldn’t shut the door because someone was on his first step asking directions and I thought in my head, “are you kidding me?”, “its rush hour?!” and something about the four foot tall wall map behind her. I noticed she was my daughter’s age but still wished she’d just stop talking.