It really makes me sad that people who ride the bus here are so weird. Because everyone who doesn’t ride the bus (and act like I said “space shuttle” instead of bus) think only weirdos do and I don’t want them to be right. But they are.
Well, I mean, I don’t want to judge… is it weird to be pregnant in high school and show you belly to everyone on the bus and complain about not being able to smoke any weed at all because then social services will take your baby?
Is it weird to have fellow passenger guess your age, be super proud to be 39 and so well preserved (which could be up for discussion) and with such a handsome 19 year old, who is also on the bus but too busy playing paper rock scissors with a mentally handicapped woman to listen to his mother?
Is it weird to ask the driver what time it is every ten minutes?
Is it weird to paint your finger nails purple when you’re a grown man with biker tattoos on your arms?
Is it weird to take your kid on a bus ride to Wal Mart to celebrate their birthday?
I don’t know, is it?
I got a better schedule for this week so for now the plan is to stick with this job for the summer. Dylan started his new job today and Daisy had an eventful day as usual; sleep, play, jumping around in the high grass in the park for a bit and once back inside biting lots of toes. This apartment will definitely only be big enough for her this summer and then it will be good to be able to let her go outside more.
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