Ah, yes. Friday it is and I feel like the week was longer usual, but at least we have made it to this point and I can gracefully exit into the weekend before getting too stir crazy here at work. I'm on the verge, but hopefully a few (couple) days away will keep me amongst the sane. I'm just tired of getting to and from here. I don't even have a terrible commute, but something about waking up to the grey and then walking to transportation with consistent precipitation pelting you in the face... it just wears on you.
Last night I had enough with this damned cold and I summonsed a cab from my singing gig on the northside to transport me to Logan Square.
First off, on a quick side note I wanted to share that I sang at this funeral last night and although I consider any gig a privilege and will usually say yes because I like the extra money, it was pretty weird to be a part of a funeral for someone I did not know. It was a huge gathering and it all began with a open casket, which is even more weird if it is someone you don't know. People viewing a body and then a Catholic Mass, which although I sing at often is an unfamiliar experience for me... then eulogies, which I tried my best to be patient with. I really did and I kept cursing myself for being insensitive, but eulogizing is so odd and seemingly redundant in certain situations. It appeared this man was loved and I'm glad people were able to express that.
So regardless, I was way up north. Father north in the city than I ever like to go and rather than stomaching the train to be followed by a bus ride I decided I had earned $$ and I could cab it home. SO! in the theme "Davin's crazy cab drivers" I got into a small white cab with an oversized white dude chomping on a stinky piece of pizza, but I was just glad to be out of the cold and headed home. "I'm diabetic, so I have to keep eating." "Umm. Ok." So he drives along with his stinky pizza and his cell phone ringing, which he answered and put on speaker phone. Twas his wife. She had found the extra stamps he needed to mail out the credit card bills. Good to know. He proceeds to listen to FOX news radio for the rest of the 20 minute ride home and comment to me on every story the wretched Greta Van Susteran yapped on about. He kept trying to engage me in the stories about the death of that girl in Aruba, or the gunman in Missouri, or the baby who survived the tornadoes. I was polite, but his pizza was overwhelming me and his driving was so slow and I just wanted to get home.
This ride was notably better than the woman cabbie I had who swerved all over the road and asked me if she could stop for gas. I didn't let her take me all the way home because I feared for my life.
Today I will eat lunch with my coworkers at Nookies. Then off to teach a voice lesson and then to the CSO for an orchestral evening.