Snoqualmie

From zero to seething in five seconds.

This was going to be an afternoon-off-work-sunshiney-giddy-narcissistic post. Now it's not.

I got the train to come home, and sat down. Over the course of the next two stations, the train car filled up and all of the seats were taken. One stop later, a fragile-looking elderly gentleman got on the train and started looking for a seat, so I stood up and motioned for him to take mine. That left me standing in the aisle, which was perfectly fine with me. It wasn't fine with the girl in the seat next to me, who flicked my hand impatiently with her fingers. I looked down at her. "You're in my way. I was talking to him," she announced, pointing at a guy sitting in the seat across the aisle.

My brain immediately geared up to give her a lecture on the dual subjects of conversational manners and tolerant behavior on full train cars, with a few choice words about the fact that she herself hadn't made the slightest move to offer the elderly man a seat. My brain was immediately betrayed by my mouth and leg muscles, which mumbled "sorry" and moved me to a different part of the aisle. I spent the rest of the ride home glowering out the window and debating with myself who deserved a kick in the shins more: her for being rude, or me for being a doormat? It was the second debate of that kind that I've had today, the first being a result of my inexplicable acquiescence when the architect who drives me up the wall demanded that I drop everything I was working on and find him a particular staple remover for which he was simply incapable of searching himself.

Both cases were decided in the offending party's favor, and Dianna has been administered one severe shin-kicking and one healthy dose of self-loathing. She attempted to pet the cat to make herself feel slightly better, but you'll be pleased to hear that that encounter ended with Bella hissing and snapping and Dianna retreating meekly. They say the meek will inherit the earth, but is it really worth it? Stay tuned.