Working Girl

(I don't know what the movie "Working Girl" is about. I hope it isn't about a prostitute. That is not the image or message I am trying to convey...)

Today, I started my new job. It’s in Toronto. The Big City. I’m not a big city girl, so I’ve chosen to stay living in my small city and am commuting in every day. The most eventful part of my day thus far has been the trip in.

5:30am: Wake up after a very restless night’s sleep. Couldn’t fall asleep until midnight, and then had dreams about being late, missing trains, and puppies.

6:30am: Leave house in the rain. Awesome. Despise the rain. Drive to GO station. Don’t arrive until 6:50am because of traffic. Drive around parking lot looking for spot close to station. None to be found. Have to walk in the rain. Concerned for shoes. Forget where I parked the car.

7:00am: Get on train. It smells. Not happy. Eat breakfast that my mommy made me. Briefly consider if it is bad taste to eat on the train. Decide I don’t care because I’m starving and it’s delicious.

7:15am: More people get on train. Ew. Hate people.

7:30am: Train becomes express to Toronto. Try to read The Lincoln Lawyer. Train moving too much. Start to feel nauseous. Put book away and start to fall asleep. Desperately wish I could lie down. Briefly consider crawling into the fetal position and hugging the seat.

7:50am: Train pulls into Union Station. Try to go quickly down the stairs so to not disrupt commuters. Almost fall. Stupid heels.

8:00am: Jump onto subway. No idea if it’s the correct subway. Pray that it doesn’t take me to wherever else the subways go (I don’t know, I’m not from here).

8:03am: Almost fall when subway lurches forward. Extremely embarrassing.

8:10am: Arrive at my stop. Jump off subway. Start walking one way. Turn around and walk the other. Follow the herd of people that I assume know where they are going.

8:12am: Get lost in subway station. Cannot find the doors that lead outside. Nothing looks familiar after trial run.

8:14am: Locate doors to outside. Internally jump for joy. Maybe externally, too. Walk outside and have no idea where I am. Start walking. Eventually see my building. Another internal yet external jump for joy.

8:16am: Walk into building. Cannot locate a Tim Horton’s. Ask young security guard that is kind of hot. He tells me that it’s right across the street. Rather embarrassing.

8:20am: Get to my floor. Peer creepily through windows. No one is at reception desk. Notice that my name is above reception desk. Apparently I am supposed to be there.

Great start.

UPDATE: Since I forgot to post this last night, I have had more experiences on the train that I have felt necessary to detail.

First of all, an incredibly good looking man sat next to me. I, of course, think that he planned it and begin to fantasize about the Tiffany diamond (oh, I went to Tiffany’s today – I am sooo getting married if I get one of those babies) that he will give me after 2.5 years of dating, which all started because of our train romance.

In all actuality, he didn’t look at me once.

I also fell asleep, and at one point I know I had pursed lips. At another point, I’m sure my mouth was open (hm, maybe he DID look at me and then looked away forever…). I did, however, wake up. Suddenly. And with a gasp. I then proceeded to look at the three people around me in a daze.

Tonight, I missed my train and took the one 10 minutes later. It stopped about 3 cities away from mine. And then went out of service. Shit.

And it’s only Tuesday.

Love,

Bella