My MP3 hates me. I (accidentally) dropped it down the gap as I got off the train yesterday - then became late for work after pondering my chances of a large fine or death if I retrieved it myself; finally got the cityrail lady who scooped it up with a long pair of rubbish collecting tong things - and now it seems to have taken up arms against me. Every second or third song (even after I pointedly turned the 'shuffle' mode off three times) is Phil Collins's You'll Be In My Heart from the Disney film, Tarzan. I don't hate the song (at least, I didn't), but it was never my favourite. I'm not a big Phil Collins aficionado. Never have been. I tolerate his music. It's only there because it was on my 'Best Disney Album In The World Ever' playlist.
I now have developed some serious hard feelings against this song, but we have a problem. I don't know how to delete music off the ruddy gadget! So I'll just be carefully going through my playlists now with my finger on the 'skip' button from now on...
Soon. Soon I shall be free of public transport. Free to fly to the ends of the Earth (or as far as my petrol budget can take me), in a car once more. Just need to find said car. My morning and evening commute has been sapping the strength from me for far too long. I figured out today that I, on average, spend twelve hours commuting and working per day. When you subtract the requisite eight hours sleep (often more, when my aching limbs have their way), this leaves me four hours. Four hours for study, chores, eating, bathing and dressing every day. I hate this state of affairs with a passionate hatred. Spending several hours every day packed in amongst zombie-faced strangers, each positioned carefully to have his/her eyes locked upon a distant (non-existant) horizon and his/her hand resting firmly on something attached to the train, without touching anything else, if possible; this lifestyle wears thin.
Ugh! This whole deal is making me grind my teeth... *seconds later*: am now flying on a cloud made of John Schmidt's Viva La Vida Meets Love Story. Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast. Sighhhhhhhh...
On a cheerier note, one thing I love to do when on one of the older trains (you know the ones - they look as if they've been punched out of aluminium foil and they're flat at the front; especial notice be taken when I say that they're the only NSW trains that have opening windows) is open the window and lean my face against it so that I can see the world travelling alongside me twice - out the window and in the reflection of the inward opening glass (as shown above). When I do this for long enough it feels like flying, although eventually my eye starts feeling a bit dry and sore and I'm sure if the train hit something or had to stop suddenly my brain would be gouged out...
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