My morning commute

Today I have an early morning shift; 7:00am-3:30pm. Its nice to get the afternoon off to do whatever it is I have to do, but getting up this early is sooooooo tough! I used to drive in to work but even at 6am there is traffic. I live in a part of town (or just outside of town) that it always seems as though there is traffic. Its unbelievable actually. At 6am it takes you almost an hour to get into work door to door. The people who wake up to beat the rush hour traffic create a mini rush hour traffic. Its so frustrating!

I love driving. I love controlling the pace of how I come in. I like catching up on the sports scores on the radio. But coming into work at 6am in a traffic jam is no longer driving. I feel like I am in a soap box racer with nothing but uphills ahead of me. So my wife convinced me to abandon my morning drive for public transport (see previous post for other things she makes me give up!!! :) ). I didn't like the idea of turning in my wonderful car... I even donated the thing to a non-profit organization just so I can't turn back! So I used to drive my car and be in my little bubble where I control where I go, what I listen to, what I see. Its my own little world, moving along and rarely interacting with any of the other little worlds alongside me. Unless they decide to cut me off and then interaction abounds!

So now I like talking the BMW (bus, metro, walk for those of you from outside of the Montreal area. Although I walk to get to the bus which brings me to the metro which pops me out right next to my work.) I enjoy being able to read on my way to work and sleep if I choose to. I like watching people fall asleep as their heads bob up and down like a floating cork. I like the fact that I am helping out the environment and the city's infrastructure. However I have noticed that there is something interesting about my morning metro rides. If you want to see how culturally diverse your city is, ride public transport in the wee hours of the morning. I get to ride with the United Nations every morning.

They get on with the lunches for the day and the free newspaper that is handed out at the doors of the station. They wear uniforms or multiple layers because they probably don't have the best jobs out there. At different points during the commute people get on and off and when they recognize a fellow countryman they give a big smile and immeadiately begin to speak rapidly in their native tongue. I hear very little French or English. I have started to recognize some of them and I know that their shifts are a lot longer than mine. If you have personal space issues they quickly disappear as you cram into your little seats (if you're lucky enough to get one!) and brush hands as you try to keep your balance when the vehicle comes to a complete stop. It truly is an enriching experience, though at six in the morning I am not at my best to appreciate it.