I Can Feel It Coming In the Air Tonight... Oh Lord

Grève. Again. I feel like there should be something more creative, but this damn strike has destroyed my poetic nature.

I left my apartment at the usual time, but today was the worst day so far, in my opinion. I couldn't get a bus (several went blowing past the stop, completely full. The bus drivers were practically laughing and mooning us as people next to me tried to flag them down), and I didn't even want to think about the metro. I sort of gathered myself up, fixed my gloves and my pants, and WALKED across half the city to get to work. It took about 90 minutes before I gave up and called my boss, because I had a meeting at 11:00 across the river which I needed to be on time for. He graciously let me show up for work at 12ish.

On the way home, I decided not to spend another few hours traipsing through the semi-rain and total dark, and instead forced myself onto a metro.

There was a totally creepy guy on there-- I, of course, got forced against him by the hordes of people pushing. Instead of doing the usual, decent thing (ie. looking away and trying to breathe his foul breath in another direction), he took the opportunity to size me up, grin, and then keep his face uncomfortably close to mine the whole way back. No dude. Your Risky Business sex train fantasy is NOT finally coming true.

Grr.

I got some Indian takeout to cheer myself up, and then watched The Life Aquatic on my computer. Same strike bullshit tomorrow.