I Enjoyed My Morning Commute — Am I Weird?
It was my first time going back to work in almost 1.5 years. I had always enjoyed going into the office pre-pandemic. Sure, the subway cars were tight sometimes, holding onto the railings covered in winter gear as gangs of people made their way in, people heaving and sighing at the constant emergency stops. But the constant buzz around me was my drug, instilling a spring in my step.
This time around though, there was an eerie silence. The train cars were almost empty, people masked up wearing their fear on their sleeve. It almost felt like a dystopian science fiction movie. To be fair, this was going on for the past 1.5 years but it was my first time, witnessing this behavior on public transport. I always held out in my mind that things would go back to being normal, that we could walk around each other without a pang of fear running through our veins, that we wouldn’t elicit a doomsday response each time a fellow passenger coughed or sneezed. But I wasn’t sure.
I embraced it though. I settled into my seat, scrolled through some medium articles, and occasionally glanced out of the windows, the landscape changing every few seconds, and voila! I was at my stop. “That was quick” — I thought to myself as I walked through the station and right into the heart of downtown, which was a mere shadow of its old self.
Making my way into the office space, I saw my colleagues whom I hadn’t seen in years. It humanized them in my eyes. One of them lost some weight. Another some hair. It was all laughs and hugs as we hung out, talked about our lives amidst the pandemic and work.
With people around you willing to bounce ideas off of, suggestions and advice, I felt more productive than I had ever been over the past 1.5 years. I zipped through my tasks, did some reports, and even squeezed in lunch at the food court with my colleagues. I felt alive. The interactions filled me with creative energy.
As I boarded my train back, I realized how much going into the office was a part of me, how much the commute meant to me. It was my me-time, where I listened to music, audiobooks, read articles, and even some meditation sessions. I collected myself during this time and made to-do tasks in my head.
“Someday, things would be back to normal “— I thought to myself as I deboarded, as the familiar wind tunnel of the station smacked me in the face.
