Homeward Bound

I am home and I am comfortable after a long day at work. I've just arrived and cannot quite remember how I got here. Often when traveling to and from work I steele my mind to the commute I am about to embark on. At my doorway as I exit, saying a prayer that I arrive to my destination safely, put my game face on and get to walking. I do the same when leaving work. Often when I put my key in my front door or when my hand goes into the machine so I can be scanned and clocked-in, I revel as to how I got to that point. I do not have instant recall as to what transpired during and how I commuted to that point. I am in a state of wanting to arrive to my destination safely and without drama, and as such, quell my anxiety by having a demur and dream-like existence during the commute to and from work.

I know were to position my self on the platform of my train stations so that the door of my train arrives at a precise point at the precise seat that I take to be away from the packed crowds of the NYC transit. I sit in the corner seat closest to the connecting-car door as it keeps me away from the crowds and often no one stands over me as the door that connects the adjoining cars is perpendicularly situated to me and should anyone stand there they would block all access to both cars. So I often don't have anyone standing near or over me. I also have the benefit of keeping space between myself and the wall that makes up the corner I am sitting in so that though someone can squeeze in next to me I will always have space on my other side. I have easy egress from the train because the passenger outlet door is almost directly on front of me and I can be out of the car in 2 steps. If anything were to happen, be it any kind of commotion, I have two means of egress to get away; the door in front of me and the door next to me that is not more than an inch from my foot. I have mapped out all that I will do in case of any type of trepidation, but I do hope for the best.

It is in these moments of transporting that I kind of daze out to take away from the tediousness of an at minimum 45 minutes commute that often has me unwillingly sitting next to people who have stepped on my feet, bumped me, elbowed me, and not said excuse me. of whom I am forced to smell their unwashed bodies and bodily functions, and do so without getting mad and going off and demanding an apology. On occasion I have demanded apologies and have often gotten the apology and a response that the person didn't know they'd elbowed me in the head. I suspect they said that to save face that they were being down right rude and embarrassed that I called them out on their Neanderthal behavior.

It is these types of moments that I steel myself against and thereby get into a out-of-body state so that I can function within the stark reality that I am stuck in a metal box, racing under the streets of NYC at 75 miles an hour, packed like sardines with other commuters, who I don't know and probably would not want to know, to go to a job that I don't particularly feel respects my work but profits from it immensely.

So I sit here tonight not remembering quite how I got to my home from my job. I am happy with the knowledge that I have established a coping mechanism that allows me to function within the confines of a stressful twice daily situation that steels me in an armor that keeps out the unpleasantness of my commute, and allows me to get to my destination with the least amount of mental anguish.

I am stepping out of my metaphorical armor and am now opening up my mind and getting out of my dream-like state. I am HOME.