It's summer in Chicago, and that means many touristy types sharing train cars with the normal, commuter types like me.
I could have left the office at 5pm and made an express train. I decided to stay an extra hour or so to finish up that last bit of work on a project in order to start the day fresh tomorrow. I. Know. Better.
The train is leaving any minute now, and in my car is a family with, by my count, 3 over-sugared young boys on the upper level who have torn through the length of the car clanging the reversible seats around while their father, in a low, monotone voice, says "Boys. Stop. Stop, boys." Meanwhile, their mother is on the lower level. She is happily ignoring the "Mom! Look! Look, Mom!" yells from above.
Enter the next set of families traveling together made up of teenagers and moms. "This car doesn't have an outlet. The other one had an outlet. How did we miss the last train? You were slow, that's how! Do you guys want lasagna for dinner? Ew! Gross!"
*Sigh*
Finally, I am again the approachable person on the train, allowing a fellow commuter the seat next to mine, with seconds to spare before the train leaves the station.
It's gonna be a long hour.
I think I'll read.
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