I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is -- Oh.
During the past several weeks, while The Big Red Rocket has been undergoing cosmetic surgury, I've been relegated to a daily regimen of combined walking and busing to get to my day job. Normally, this time of year the skies would have been bursting forth with torrents of rain (as indeed they are today -- with a vengeance), making even brief attempts at sojurning into the great outdoors a process that would rival the ministrations of a NASA clean room crew outfitting an Apollo astronaut. In addition to the standard work uniform undergarment, this usually involves a layer of persperation-wicking material covered by a water-repellent laywer of gortex or similar space-age fabric, hat, some sort of waterproof boots or overshoes, and when things get really cold and nasty, gloves and scarves. The end result of all this layering is that one is drastically encumbered and somewhat restricted in movement, not to mention the fact that the least amount of physical exersion produces moderate to copious amounts of sweat, which despite the wicking layer, tends to get trapped by the outer water resistent layer, and is recirculated throughout the inner layers, leaving everying damp and musty. Plus, once you actually get to work, you normally don't have enough places to hang everything in the vain hope that it will all somehow dry out by 5:00 p.m., when you have to put everything back on again in a repeat of the earlier process.
The alternative of course is to simply forget walking altogether and opt for the easier, albeit less healthful bus ride, in which case the opportunity for exercise is tossed completely by the wayside in favor of comfort.
But, now of course the entire "walk or bus" paradigm is complicated by the fact that The BRR is once again road-worthy, meaning that the real issue becomes one of time; do I spend 30 minutes waiting for and riding the bus to get to work, or do I cut that down to 7 minutes by driving? For the moment, either choice involves the additional complication of having to get onto another bus regardless, since we still have picket lines established in front of our office, and so we can't simply drive into the parking lot like normal employees (and after being forced to do exactly this once last week when by an unfortunate coincidence about 100 very angry, very abusive union protesters converged on me and The BRR, I can say it's something I would rather not repeat).
I always feel a bit guilty about driving to work. Under normal conditions it usually takes me less than 40 minutes to walk the two plus miles from boat to office, but that means getting up 30 minutes earlier, and even after more than five years at an 8-to-5 job, I still have not developed a circadian rhythm that comes anywhere close to being the equivalent of that of a "morning person". I like to sleep in; I do my best work between 11:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m., and the temptation to lounge in bed for even a few additional minutes is something I have just never managed to build up the discipline to resist. Besides, who really enjoys walking in the wet and wind when it's dark as Hades outside? Or sitting on a crowded, smelly, exhale-fogging-up-the-windows rattletrap Metro bus for the equivalent of what would be two round trips in nice, warm (!) snuggly BRR, with NPR on the FM and a double-short, skinny from the drivethrough in the cup holder? Is that too much to ask?
Besides, I NEED to drive, so I can start getting used to these dang-nabbed new bifocals...
on 4:34 PM