Whenever I am heading home, there is a funny feeling in my stomach, a fear that I might lose the bus, or that I would embark on the wrong one, and then I would end up in another city, with not enough money on me, and no place to stay at (in case there is not enough time to return, of course). Obviously, this works the other way round too. I am actually more worried when I have to return to the city, than when I am heading home.
I remember how once, while I was a freshman in the BA program, there was just one more day before my winter break ended, and I had to leave home and head for the city again. Dad drove me to the bus stop, in a nearby city, so that I wouldn’t need to take the forever-awfully-crowded-bus that went through the village, then change and take another one that would head to City #2, where Continue reading “Panic in the Bus!”