A two hour commute to a place that normally only takes 35 minutes can get old quickly. Trains don’t run on the weekends. Trains are late. Places are packed. It rains.
I’ve learned, so far, that living in a city means that you have to be okay with adapting. Change in the sense of making split second decisions to hop on a train you might not otherwise have thought to take. Or walking down a different street if something is blocked off. Or spending an hour in a grocery store eating raisins and reading because it’s pouring out and you don’t have anywhere else to be.
It took me almost 2 hours on Sunday to get to church. Three of the trains that I needed to take were down without much warning. Needless to say, I was late. I realized halfway through that there was no possible way for me to make it on time and so I stopped worrying. Three transfers and a bus later, I got there.
Volunteered in the nursery for the first time after the first service.
After church I went wandering through the streets of Queens waiting for Jon to get back from dropping his bike off at home. Ran across some sweet street art. That’s the thing I love about relying on public transportation. It can be slow at times but being forced to walk makes you see things that you might not have otherwise run across. It started raining pretty hard though so I found a grocery store and bought raisins (so I felt justified in hanging out there) and read my book to pass time.
Sunday afternoon was quiet. Jon and I went to the 3rd year anniversary party of the church before heading back to Brooklyn to hang out. It was one of those rainy gray Sundays where watching some movies sounded perfect. Made tomato soup (the best I’ve ever had!) for dinner and called it a weekend. Two real home-cooked dinners in one weekend, I’d call it successful.