A Quiet, Trauma-Free Ride...or is it?

Hello there. If you've become an avid reader of my humble-number of bus blogs - what are there, about five or six entries now? Anyway, if you've become a reader who looks forward to these, I am honoured, and I'm sorry things have been more than quiet recently.

You see, I'm writing this because not too long ago my mom had asked about them.

"What happened to your bus blogs?" - In which I responded with; "Not much has been happening right now in the bus world."

This is not a bad thing. In fact, it's a big relief. It tells you that my bus trauma has been at an all-time low and that low is not negative in any way - other than the fact that I don't have many ideas when it comes to writing any new entries. I did feel rather disappointed that I had nothing new to share recently. I enjoy writing these blogs every now and again - so when would I write the next one?

Well, today. Here you go, Mom. You're welcome.

So what can I write about that's as equally witty as my bus adventures? What about the characters that I've come to know that sometimes ride the same bus as me. 'What are their stories' I ask myself.

You already know about my neighbour - but thank GOD (literally) he doesn't ride the bus with me. To add onto the trauma of the prior bus blog entry ... when it comes time to get paid on the 25th of the month, I have a tendency to order an ungodly number of things - groceries included, because here in Korea, one can even order 'next day' groceries that come in a type of 'cooler bag' that will also then be collected once you've unpacked the goods. It's amazingly nifty as well as useful and minimal effort is required to bring the package from outside your door, inside. Despite the fact that opposite my apartment building, is a huge department store with every kind of grocery you can think of.... but we move forward. Allow me to live my best life avoiding as many unsolicited social interactions as I can please.

Okay, now that we've cleared that up, let's carry on with this story. So yes, I sometimes order groceries from the well known and loved APP 'Coupang.' You can get anything and everything from here. It's pretty much Korean Amazon. But not everything listed on this site comes from the same place... and even when it does - everything and I mean EVERY. SINGLE. THING. is packaged S E P A R A T E L Y. It's outrageously triggering. Here you have a country that enforces recycling but isn't consciously bothered about packaging ten different items in ten different bags all labelled Coupang. What's worse is that the smallest item will sometimes get delivered in the biggest box they can find. Someone at that distribution centre must be plotting their villain arc because my gracious it's triggering.

Okay so envision this. It's payday and I order a few things I've run out of, some things I've been eyeing and then, a lot of groceries. I do it all at once to also just get it out of the way (and let's be honest here Tayla - while you still have money), and when they deliver these things at different times, each time they'll usually send a photo along with it as proof that they've left the delivery in front of your door. Upon receiving these images, I die a little inside of embarrassment when I realise anyone living on that floor on my side, must think I'm some kind of mad hoarder. There's a mini Burj Khalifa made of Coupang packages sitting outside my door each time, with that one massive box with mascara in it sent by the guy that's plotting world domination at the distribution centre. Death by making people feel pressed about receiving a lipstick in a 45x45cm box. (18x18inches).

Allow me to expose myself...... (this isn't even the worst of it.)

Exhibit A, B and C

One day, I was home when I had a huge number of these packages outside my door. I had just showered and changed for the day. My hair was still wet. I didn't want to put any shoes on, so instead of confidently stepping outside of my door - I opened it, knelt down and reached to grab each package one by one. I imagine I looked like the creature from Lord of the Rings with my wet hair draped over my face and shoulders while I was crouched on the ground, clawing for my packages. I usually try and collect them at full speed so no one sees me because how embarrassing. Now... you probably as always, can see where this is going.

In that moment of clawing for my first package, I heard footsteps and thought oh crap. I looked up in that moment, only to make eye contact with a young, attractive guy. (I didn't appreciate that one Lord. Out of all the people you could have sent down that hallway...). He made direct eye contact with me. He was carrying flowers - probably for his super hot, well-put-together girlfriend that represented everything I wasn't in that moment. (I'm of course joking and making assumptions here. But in Korea, everyone outwardly appears all well-put-together and gorgeous for the most part.) I know that comes with its own set of problems because of the high beauty standard here, but I'm trying to paint a dramatic scene okay. I, in that moment probably represented Gollum pretty well.

Me as I look up, with my wet hair - making eye contact with the man walking my way.

What's worse is I was still inside my apartment because I wasn't wearing shoes. So I really was just peeping out like some kind of little gremlin reaching for my packages.... my precious.

Needless to say I was fully committed to my cause. The damage had already been done. My dignity leached from my very being. So I kept reaching for my packages, once again looking back down and wishing in that moment a bus would ride over me. (See I'm keeping it consistent to the theme of the blog.)

So needless to say every time I order countless packages, I'm always in a race against time to get home before my neighbour because I know he secretly judges me upon seeing them all. I mean who wouldn't??? However, I got home late earlier this week and upon arriving at around 7:45pm, I saw all my packages awaiting me and wondered just how many others had seen them too. I laugh inwardly because it's really quite comical but also, it's really quite terribly embarrassing as I have said many times. I know my mom would say; "Who cares. What you order is no one's business." Maybe she wouldn't say it exactly like that, but I am not at the age yet where first or even second-hand embarrassment no longer affects me. I am still very much caught in the clutches of hyper-awareness when it comes to these kinds of things.

So apart from that.... I went a bit off-road here.... (smug with that one.) There are two other characters that live in my building, and that do in fact take the same bus as me....sometimes. But thank the Lord that they live on a different floor than me. I know one lives on the floor below me, because often we catch each other in the elevator. Sigh. Sometimes I'm holding trash and a stack of flattened out cardboard boxes needing to be recycled and each time that's the case - I once again get embarrassed, even though I have seen people with literal carts, haul their recycling downstairs. I mean work smarter not harder right? But at the end of the day, we all gotta take out the trash at some point.

I have also found it interesting that all these people I have come to 'know' are men. Me, someone who has grown up surrounded by a lot of girls and women. (My family, school, job, and profession alone) - it's all mostly women. So it's quite comical that these above-mentioned people are in fact men. I would honestly prefer them be women. I feel women would understand me better, seeing ninety-nine packages outside my door at least.

So yes, although this is yet another 'filler' entry if you will, I hope that it could add some amusement to your day. I'd like to think I'm not alone in all this. I know there's people out there who go through the exact same struggle of thinking 'I'm the only one in the entire world who embarrasses themselves to this extent.' But I know I'll look back at it, perhaps when I'm riding yet another (hopefully peaceful) bus one day and this memory comes to mind - and think just how overly dramatic I made these things in my head. Hopefully when I FINALLY reach the age of not giving a sh*t that my actual sh*t stinks, because I've finally come to realise that so does everybody else's.

Until the next stop,

Bus Blog Driver Tay