lost it

You know that I "tremp," hitch to work, and I even enjoy it at times and make light
of it.
Sometimes it's easier, and sometimes harder, but I can handle it. That is usually.

Today I must admit that I "lost it." First, I didn't need to get to work at my usual time, which on a typical Tuesday means that I leave my house around 12:15 in order to teach at 2:40, a twenty minute trip if driving straight, door to door. And if your math's quick you see that I normally give myself almost two and a half hours. But you must understand that even the days when I teach at 1:45, I leave the same time, because there aren't any buses leaving Shiloh after the 12:20, which sometimes comes after 1pm until the one that comes 4:15 at the earliest. And those are the "dead" hours for rides, too.

So, when I was told that I didn't have to teach until 3:35, I expected difficulties. I left my house just after 2, and after a "reasonable wait," I got a ride to Ofra. I waited there a while, and then a "yellow" bus carrying school kids stopped and said he was going towards Jerusalem. Usually these drivers are nice, so I asked if he'd let me off at "Tzomet Ha-Tee," Givat Asaf, the turnoff to Beit El. "What do you think I am, your private taxi service?" shouted the driver at me. I was in shock, but I answered really fast: "If I had a private taxi, I wouldn't be asking you. Egged won't take me. Do you really think I like doing this? I don't have a choice; it's demeaning." I guess he wasn't expecting such an answer, and he asked me where I was going. When I said "Beit El," you could see, as they say in Hebrew, "ha'asimon nafal;" he understood. There is no public transportation between Ofra and Beit El; I had no choice, and he wasn't nice. He told me to get in.

I did, and I was so upset that I couldn't even raise my eyes to look for a seat. I just stood there; it wouldn't take long, and then I could get off. Suddenly I heard a voice behind me: "Giveret, shvi kaan." "Mrs., sit here, please." I looked and saw a man holding a boy in his lap. I thanked him and sat.

I was so shaken by the nastiness of it all that I was afraid that I'd find it impossible to teach. But, Baruch Hashem, I was ok. It was only when I was "tremping" home that I felt myself getting upset again.

I hope that by writing this out, I can calm down.