It's currently 11:03AM in the morning and I'm wide awake. Now, this should seemed normal unless your someone that has been known to most of her friends for sleeping in till 2p.m in the afternoon. Then, that's something worth blogging about. I mean, it's a big achievement. In fact, believe it or not, I've been awake since 8:20AM and even I am amazed at myself.

I really think I deserve a pat on the back!

For the first time in my life, I was so tempted to go through my phone contacts and ring up my friends to announce to them that I've been awake since 8:20AM but I don't think they will appreciate my early phone call so I guess it's best if I just blog about the most random thing currently in my mind that is probably not worth reading... unless you have exhausted all other procrastinating avenues and your last resort is to read May's blog. *shrugs*

I've realized that when faced with a crowd of commuters, it's easy to choke. It's also really easy to be one of those commuters, directing all the collective anger in your body towards whichever person is being frustratingly slow while purchasing a train ticket at the ticket machine. You concentrate all the hate and disappointment that you can harness in your body and unleash it upon that person with such silent fury that if dinosaurs were still alive, they would cry.

But once you get to the front of the line...

It's easy to forget the alphabet. Aarkville? Ardaville? You're half asleep and your confused little brain tells you that it must be at the end of the options, where Ying Yang and Zig Zag are. Of course! It's easy to suddenly lose the ability to direct enough force into your index finger, causing your selection not to be registered by the machine. Why? Simply because you didn't press it hard enough.

Hysterical and close to tears, you wish the machine was dead. You wish death upon the machine's entire family members. Frantically, you jam your finger into the little metal circle, more determined than you've ever been in your life. May, just get a grip on yourself! But it's okay. It's easy to mistaken your eighteen years of age as 'pensioner' as you watch your fingers press the 'cancel' button to begin all over again.

The annoyance of the people in line behind you searing skulls into the back of your head. And it is really easy to do it all again, get your selections right and then suddenly spill all your coins amongst the feet of the very people waiting in line behind you who could use those same feet to stomp the sense out of your face.

I don't know why public transport creates incredible amounts of tension amongst commuters but I kind of take pride in the fact that I can scan my smart rider, do a semi-retarded dougie dance and pass through the gate even before it closes on the person before me.

My self-worth is based on how fast I can buy a ticket at the ticket machine, looking back as I walk off to check if anyone has seen what a good little commuter I am. I don't even know why this should even matter. But it matters... to me anyways.