As many of you know, I recently moved to Philadelphia. Along with the new move came a new route to work, which required me to take the dreaded Septa bus number 33. When I saw that the bus hails from streets north of Girard, I knew I was in for an early morning treat - and I ain't talkin' Starbucks.
I won't go into detail about the interesting people on the bus (zebra hairdos) because I was taught that if you didn't have anything nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all. So. Yesterday morning, when the bus didn't come on time, I decided to keep walking until the bus caught up with me. Thirty minutes, and an additional deoderant application, later I was walking into my office building -- and the bus still hadn't caught up.
Mind you, the walk is not that bad. Sure the friction from my thighs could start a fire, and my flipflops are ready to be retired, but I pass through beautiful parks and town squares, and for the most part, it's all down hill.
When it came time to go home last night, I decided I would hoof it again. It was hotter than Hades, which I hear from close friends is pretty hot, but it felt good to be a part of the city.
I think more people should walk to work, if they can. I always wanted to be a "walker." Hopefully I'll start shedding some lbs. so I can fit into the bridesmaid dresses I'll be donning next summer -- and with all the tokens I'll save, I'll have more money for shoes.
