Today's #BEDM prompt is about my walk to work. Which is going to be interesting because I get the bus. I could tell you about the god awful bus journey but shouty, bolded, capital letter posts aren't good for my blood pressure or your eye sight - I hate the bus.
Fancy city folks don't know how good they have it with their modern 21st century buses. If my bus came with a couple of shire horses harnessed to the front I'd class this as an improvement. At least the smell of horse shit might go some way to mask the heady aroma of burnt rubber, seriously manky upholstery and the rancid body odour of the scary looking passenger who always wants to sit next to me. I hate the bus.
If I'm not talking about the bus I could talk about my route to the bus stop. Unfortunately, I don't actually know that much about it. It passes in a burr as I do a weird joggy, power walky, panty run. Punctuated with swear words as I curse my inability to leave the house in enough time. I'm also ordinarily pretty preoccupied with praying that the newly applied and probably still wet liquid eyeliner isn't migrating down my face in the rain. My umbrella is, of course, staying nice and dry at home.
I think that the above might go some way to explain why the first thing on my 'when I win the lottery shopping list' is a car of my very own. I like this one.
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