Since I spent a large chunk of the morning hiding behind my hair because I couldn’t keep my eyes open, I decided I better make a quick Starbucks run. (Now, spare me the Starbucks lecture—it’s only a block away from my office. Get off my back.)
So, granted, I’m a little sleepy, and granted, I was checking my voice mail, but I was still aware of my surroundings as I started to cross the street. I had the right-away. The little walking man was blinking at me as I stepped off the sidewalk. I’m almost halfway across the street when I am forced to jump backwards because a bus turning left was barreling around the corner, ready to run me over. (AM I INVISIBLE? I’m wearing a bright red shirt. What the eff.) Seriously, though, I had to leap out of the way. I didn’t think I was capable of leaping, but apparently when it’s a choice between death by bus and leaping, I’m a leaper.
My “ohmygodi’mgoingtodieonthestreet” thought process was abruptly terminated when I made eye contact with the bus driver as I leapt out of death’s way. She was glaring at me. Excuse me? You almost murdered me because you’re speeding around a corner, not paying attention to pedestrians crossing the street, and you’re glaring at ME?
I hate that bus driver. I have a sneaking suspicion that if she had actually run me over, she would have just kept driving.
I was so shaky, cranky, and irritated that not only did I almost die by bus on a Chicago street, I got a dirty look from my potential murderer, that when I reached Starbucks I went into panic mode and bought one of those giant chocolate cookies with my cappuccino.
I’m not hungry. I don’t want a cookie. I had French toast for breakfast. But considering I made it the whole block back to the office without being run over, and my $4 cappuccino was only half-full (seriously, Starbucks?), I deserve this cookie, dammit.
It might sound like I’m joking, or exaggerating slightly, but seriously, I almost died. My heart is still racing.
I’M AWAKE NOW! THANK YOU, BUS DRIVER!