The Joys of Commuting
By James Janeiro
Issue date: 11/17/05 Section: Features
Commuting. The very word implies toil, depravity, and general unhappiness. Images of overstuffed subways cars and backpacks come to mind, along with dirty buses and surly drivers. Commuters and residence kids, ladies and gentlemen, its time to get things straight.
Let me start off by saying that I am a very lucky commuter. My earliest class is at 11:00am Monday to Thursday, with Friday off. Most of the week, I have plenty of time between classes. As such, my schedule is almost the ideal for anyone hoping to travel to and from campus. I live about twenty-five minutes from campus, only a ten minute walk or three minute streetcar ride to the closest subway station. So, my first class being at 11, I wake up at 9am, which gives me an hour to get dressed, eat breakfast, and start my morning off slowly. I leave my house at 10am, meeting some fellow Humberside alumni at the streetcar stop two or three times as week. The streetcars run every minute or so (no kidding), so it's not a problem to get to the subway. If I'm not meeting anyone, in comes the commuter's right-hand man/woman/person; the iPod, or other musical device. Throw in a book or newspaper and you're set. Either way, distracted by iPod or human, I'm on campus usually by 10:30.
What to do first thing upon arriving at Vic? I get to my locker in Old Vic to dump the stuff I don't need immediately, grab a paper, sometimes a coffee, and head to my first class. Being early helps, you know. Some of the best studying is done in groups right before the test or exam.
So classes are over for the day. What is a commuter to do? Normally, I've got some sort of meeting to go to, either exciting or, let's just say, not-so-exciting. I've been lucky enough to meet many spectacular people, both in res and out, so hanging around is a definite possibility. Many a happy hour have been spent watching movies in my good friend's room, or in Wymilwood chatting with some fine folk over coffee and cinnamon bun. Eventually, though, the thought that I should be doing homework returns, and I scurry on home. On the way back to my abode, I sometimes find cronies from schools past, which I inevitably end up talking to for a while. At the end of the day, the commuter returns from whence he came, to the sweet embrace of home cooking.
Let me start off by saying that I am a very lucky commuter. My earliest class is at 11:00am Monday to Thursday, with Friday off. Most of the week, I have plenty of time between classes. As such, my schedule is almost the ideal for anyone hoping to travel to and from campus. I live about twenty-five minutes from campus, only a ten minute walk or three minute streetcar ride to the closest subway station. So, my first class being at 11, I wake up at 9am, which gives me an hour to get dressed, eat breakfast, and start my morning off slowly. I leave my house at 10am, meeting some fellow Humberside alumni at the streetcar stop two or three times as week. The streetcars run every minute or so (no kidding), so it's not a problem to get to the subway. If I'm not meeting anyone, in comes the commuter's right-hand man/woman/person; the iPod, or other musical device. Throw in a book or newspaper and you're set. Either way, distracted by iPod or human, I'm on campus usually by 10:30.
What to do first thing upon arriving at Vic? I get to my locker in Old Vic to dump the stuff I don't need immediately, grab a paper, sometimes a coffee, and head to my first class. Being early helps, you know. Some of the best studying is done in groups right before the test or exam.
So classes are over for the day. What is a commuter to do? Normally, I've got some sort of meeting to go to, either exciting or, let's just say, not-so-exciting. I've been lucky enough to meet many spectacular people, both in res and out, so hanging around is a definite possibility. Many a happy hour have been spent watching movies in my good friend's room, or in Wymilwood chatting with some fine folk over coffee and cinnamon bun. Eventually, though, the thought that I should be doing homework returns, and I scurry on home. On the way back to my abode, I sometimes find cronies from schools past, which I inevitably end up talking to for a while. At the end of the day, the commuter returns from whence he came, to the sweet embrace of home cooking.
