As I was sitting there wondering how much longer I could ethically ignore the mean rant before turning around and yelling at her, I thought to myself: some day you will not be on this bus. Some day it will be April. This will all seem like a bad dream.
There you have it. Some days, walking on fire just requires enduring tedious, cold (super cold) days where you feel car sick all day because you read too much on the bus. But there is April. And March.
Months of absolute loveliness haunting a very real future.