Always look on the bright side of life…
On the way to my internship, the train is stalled at Christie station. A voice comes over the intercom, “Attention TTC customers. We are currently experiencing a delay on the Bloor-Danforth Line at Islington Station due to an injury at track level.” A woman behind me inhales sharply. There are a few other scattered gasps, one “Oh God”, and many whispers. In unison we all think the same thought. Someone jumped.
I wonder if he/she used their soon-to-expire June metro pass one last time? Or a soon to be discontinued adult ticket stub? Or did they have to dish out the $2.75? Is that the going rate of a final hurrah?
Life broken down into rates:
500 - The cost of rent.
250 - The rumoured number of TTC suicides per year (that’s just under 5 per week)
195 - Cost of a psychotherapist per hour
144 - Number of tissues per box.
109 - Cost of a TTC Metro Pass per month
69 - Number of calories per 1 oz. of Whiskey Fireball Shooter
50 - Dollars per trip to No Frills
28 - Cost of hydro per month
2 - Maximum number of Red Bulls recommended per day.
0 - How much I get paid to intern per hour.
0 - How much I get paid to intern with holiday time-and-a-half per hour.
Rate my sanity is leaving me? Astronomical.
Rate in which my interest towards ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE is dissipating? Probably need a PHD and thermochromic liquid crystal to calculate.
And so, the month of July means another 109 dollars (that I do not have) must go to the TTC. The bright side? Somehow I am still the person on the train, and not the one in front of it.
Always look on the bright side of life…
Desiree Thrash.
If I were a rate I would be: One jar of nut butter per week.
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