Saturdays are sacred to me. They are sometimes used for grad work; sometimes I commute into school just to get my classroom in order. Yet, they are mine to do with as I see fit. Until now.
How I actually commuted into the city after my alarm clock chimed at 4:45AM ... I do not know. I arose dead with exhaustion, and vaguely remember purchasing my railroad ticket, some coffee, and making some snarky remark to some guy on the train bellowing out the praises of some pizza he ate to someone he was speaking to on his cell phone. Said bellower simply sneered, but did lower his voice and quickly concluded his inane conversation.
I actually FOUND the school (a shocker given my lack of directional aptitude) and then sat through the most horrifically boring 6 and a half hours of my life as the instructors made us go through adolescent ice breakers (something that I believe Mildly Melancholy discussed on her blog, but which I was unable to find), informed us of far too much of their personal lives, and generally maintained a brisk schedule of nonsense.
The day was ruined, until I went to the subway platform to begin my trek back to the non-NYC area in which I live. Finally! New York City action! At least a dozen uniformed cops and 4-5 undercover cops began to swarm the platform in hot pursuit of an unknown suspect. These ding-dongs were running all over the place like mad. One minute they were on my side of the platform, the next minute they were running up the stairs and down to the opposing platform. And as this back and forth continued, tourists commenced taking out their damn cameras and taking pictures! For a minute, I was actually concerned about what the hell was going on and that perhaps I should wait for a later train, but as the tourists became increasingly bemused by NYC'S Finest looking like a Benny Hill episode, I just sat back and enjoyed the nonsense of it all.
YoMister arrived home safe, sound, and just a wee bit less pissed about losing my Saturday (although I sure do need the money). Nonetheless, it certainly felt like some bizarre version of Saturday detention.
On another note, I was likewise struck by the fact that I am now reaching a one year anniversary of being sans relationship. I have no time for the whole dating process, but would like to find a relatively stable and intelligent man who would be understanding of my schedule, low maintenance in the self esteem area, and have a general willingness to listen to me bitch now and then about things. In return he would receive a LOT of free space, a boyfriend too busy to find faults or create drama, and an occassional sticker proclaiming "Beary Good!" on his suit lapel in the morning and a Jolly Rancher lollipop on his pillow.