No, But I Often Dream of Running Away

On the bus down Mission street, post-yoga.

Strapped to me and slung about me are:
- laptop bag
- (standard-issue SF sporty gal) LuluLemon bag filled with discarded day clothes
- Yoga bag (Yoga mat - Samurai Sword of the hopelessly docile)
- Purse

Older woman in a bright red, polka-dotted raincoat sits next to me and eyes me suspiciously. For an uncomfortable period of time. Until I say, "Hello."

Her: Are you off to college?
Me: Um, no.
Her: Living on the streets?
Me: Um, I just have a lot of stuff.

Guess this is all to say that, yeah, I'm coming back now to bore you with my anecdotes. Let the ignoring commence.

Thank you, india.

Ping!