Riding the Metra

Today I went in to Chicago for a food safety seminar for my job. It was my first time riding the train by myself and being in Chicago by myself, so I made Chase walk me to the train station. You know, just to make sure I get on the right one. I'm kidding, there's only one train. But he still walked me to the station bright and early this morning. I found a seat by myself and read out of a book I've been reading called Tinderbox. It's about "How the west sparked the AIDS epidemic and how the world can finally overcome it".

A few stops later some man came and sat beside me carrying two (two!) briefcases. But he was nice and smiled at me, but not in a creepy way, so I didn't mind. He told me that in Oak Park a lot of people get off the train, so he could give me space then. I told him it was fine and went back to my book. In Oak Park he changed to an empty row, but then a lady who smelled funny sat beside me. Whatever.

I went to the seminar, and didn't get lost for even a little bit. It was spectacular. The seminar, however, was the worst eight hours I've spent in my entire life. I've never been held hostage in a foreign prison, but I think I would have preferred that. At least you would have cool stories. The teacher was a woman with a strong accent, and I could barely understand her. She covered one (out of ten) chapters in the first four hours. Seriously. She constantly chattered about stupid things and talked about what a good food safety person she was and how lucky we were for her to teach the class, and after every bit of information she said, "are you catching on?" The only way I kept from getting insanely frustrated and stabbing my eyeballs with my pencil was to draw pictures on the notebook I brought. I decided that if she said anything about me drawing, I would tell her that I had ADD and the only way I could focus is to keep my hands busy. Which actually is a tiny bit true. Except for the ADD part.

She was talking about food and about how you are what you eat, and she put her hand on the guy in front of me and said, "he loves meat. You can tell." Then she put her hand on me (gross. if you're not married or related to me don't.touch.me.), and said, "she loves vegetables."
Thank you. Thank you random Asian lady for stereotyping me and implying I eat nothing but vegetables. Your class just gets better and better.

So that was basically my entire day today. At least I got paid for it, right?