Social Movement...

... My arse. All I know is, when it takes me two hours to get to work because some lazy dudes don't feel like doing their jobs, I don't really feel like supporting their cause.

The grève is on again, blah blah... I walked for 45 minutes after the initial hour-long wait for the train that got me that far, because I couldn't bear getting smushed into another metro. Worse is waiting for three to pass by before I could get smushed in. Both things happened today, of course.

New plan of action: buses. I don't know what it is about the buses, but every time there's a strike, I seem to find one within 20 minutes or so (not unreasonable), and I am usually able to sit or at least stand comfortably. The metro is full of heinous people, like men who aren't afraid to elbow women in the face (really! I saw it happen!) for two square inches of room on a cattle car. Bof.

I can't wait until this damn "social movement" is over... and quit with the euphemisms, guys. It's a glorified vacation from reality.