Taxi crashes

Oh those clever word gods. Did anyone else notice that what separates “de-stress” and “distress”–two words with completely antithetical meanings–is just a single, solitary letter? Imagine the confusion if I accidentally pressed the wrong letter.

So anyway, in an attempt to de-stress my distress (still with me?), I decided to sleep a little early last night. Another restless sleep (my third or fourth this week). After what felt like hours and hours of tossing and turning, I told myself that it was futile and to just get up and haul ass to work. I sat up, stretched, and grabbed my phone. It was exactly 2 a.m. BAH. Overexcited for work much? And it wasn’t even time for my Paris Hilton interview yet (YES! YES! YES! Another shallow dream ticked off!).

I had to endure more tossing and turning until around 5 a.m. when I felt completely awake, spending the last few moments of darkness counting the minutes to six. Finally I got up, did the morning rituals–Friday, here I come.

Walking to the taxi area, I noticed the bumper-to-bumper traffic along Katipunan. Great, I thought to myself. Not only would I have difficulty finding a cab, I’d lose more precious time coursing (or plodding) through the crowded thoroughfare. But as luck would have it, a few meters from the road, I saw an empty cab and flagged it down. Just when I got in, I felt a bump. The school bus behind us nudged the taxi a bit and my driver was absolutely furious. He got out of the car and stormed toward the bus full of kids, yelled at its driver, slammed his door, and made furious gestures with his fist. The heated bus driver got out and punched him. Hook, jab, uppercut; yell, shout, scream. I just sat there, half amused at the brawl outside, while half-fixated at a chocolate-colored Chowchow that strutted past. When the cab driver finally entered the taxi a few minutes later, he was looking positively calm, and everything was back to a smooth sail.

Strange. But it leaves us to the more pertinent question: WHY THE HELL DID I STAY IN THE CAB?

 

***

In other news, my curly hair looks like an erupting volcano of dead cells. Think blob. It has a life of its own and it’s just growing larger and larger.

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