Holiday from my holiday…

I had just boarded the bus from Ang Mo Kio station when I realised that my ride home was going to be an hour long – or more. I settled myself into my favourite seat on the bus and prepared myself for the long journey ahead: I plugged in my headsets and looked out the window.

I hadn’t had the patience (or I was always late) recently to actually take a bus ride this long since the start of the holidays; and although I used to take a long bus journey everyday from secondary school, I remembered myself actually enjoying it. At that moment, however, I could not for the life of me understand or remember why. I saw nothing interesting in the dark streets. In no time at all, I was nodding off.

When I woke up from having my head bang against the side of the window (which is perpetually covered in hair grease and spider webs and other nefarious whatnots), I told myself that I was going to stay awake for the remaining forty-five minutes of the journey to avoid further grievances. And so I did.

After fifteen minutes of having music blasting into my ears and thinking about nothing at all (besides how long more I was going to take to get home), my brain just seemed to jump start, to really think. And when it stopped thinking and reflecting and solving small math problems, it’s attention turned to nostalgia and fond memories and the two pretty fit guys sitting in front who weren’t wearing shirts (for reasons unknown).

After the small series of really strange and random epiphanies, good music and the cathartic lulling rhythm of orbiting thoughts, I was almost disappointed when the bus turned down the corner to my street.

But hey. I was home!

However, I’ll bet my next allowance that the next time I board a bus, I’ll forget all about this and have to learn it all over again.

It’s just one of those slippery, blissful, gift-from-God things that people so easily forget when it’s not smack dab in the rhythm of their daily life.

Thank God for long bus rides.

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