Marooned in Jersey!

So apparently, the NYC Transit authority mistook some rain for the next flood and screwed commuters yet again. Methinks another raise hike is imminent and they needed some ammunition.

Anyway, the F train announced at 42nd Street that there was no Queensbound service, and invited us all to try our chances on the number 7 train. Anyone who knows me knows I'd almost rather watch Bush address the nation (I said almost) than ride the 7 train. And considering that every underground line was discharging Queensbound passengers and telling them to take the 7, which is already a clusterf*ck of human proportions at best, I opted to head for my mom's. I left the station, left a profanity-laced voicemail on my mother's cellphone, informing her that I'd be meeting her at home, and headed for Port Authority.

Got to Port Authority at 5:40, got on a bus, the bus took off. (Turns out my mom's E train took almost 40 MINUTES to go three stops, so she was two buses behind me.) I was in Jersey by 6:40. Watching the news that night, seeing what people were continuing to go through in order to get home, I could only sit back and realize that going to Jersey most likely saved someone's life, because I know I would have gone Berserker-Rage Wolverine on someone had I tried.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (dressing), I have got to get my crap together and start eating right. Working out 3 days a week isn't going to do a blessed thing for my backside if I keep diving into Will's Doritos stash. I just don't know if I want to be aggravated by logging into SelfDietClub.com every day to put all my meals in. As cool as the site is, the logging in thing gets tedious and the inner brat in me doesn't wanna do it. I have to figure this out and be done with it already. Argh.