Of Praying and Pancakes

13,669 Days Alive

I’m on the bus to work and I know that today is going to be An Interesting Day. Why?

My faithful alarm clock, set in the depths of exhaustion last night, was set for p.m. Whoops.

Thankfully, Spock woke me up at 8:58 to feed him. I was having the weirdest dream about a bus trip and broken glasses.

I had to run for the bus. And even then, he stopped after the bus stop to let me on. What a nice bus driver.

I guess the combination of my décolletage and pentacle necklace marked me A Sinner to one bus patron. We didn’t exactly exchange words, but she decided I was an evil influence or something. She wobbled her way across the bus aisle to avoid being near me, crossed herself, and began pray-muttering about how “the sinner woman should redeem herself”.

Now, mind you, I’m more ish than Jewish, but it’s a little offensive when someone assumes that I’m going to hell for a bit of silver around my neck. I’m no Judas. Besides, Jesus was a rabbi and my birth religion is older than theirs. It’s what theirs is based around!

When I asked her if she was praying for me, just out of mildly spiteful curiosity, she started praying louder, saying “the Devil shall not speak to me” or some such nonsense.

What a way to start a day, huh?

At least I look cute. I’m wearing cherry red jeans, that I desperately need to hem, and a black shirt and hoodie. Oh, and mask, because I am on public transit and surrounded by germ factories in the form of other people.

Forgot to grab breakfast and lunch in my rush to get out the door. Oh well. I’ll survive. Maybe I still have a meat and cheese stick in the fridge at work.

I’m off the bus in a moment, so I’ll catch y’all later.

Take your meds, folks!

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