Twice in my life I have had commutes that lasted at least ninety minutes going one way, and ninety to 120+ going the other. Twice may not sound like a big deal, but honest to Christmas, once was too much. For those of you out there who regularly spend three-plus hours of your day commuting, I commend you. I, personally, would lose my ever-loving mind if I had to do that again on a regular basis.
Which is why, when Swede and I were house hunting last year, we made it a point to look in places that have short commutes to our jobs. We pointed well for ourselves, it turned out, as it’s thirty minutes door-to-door for me via bus, and, on a bad day, fifteen for him by car (give or take if he rides his bike). And that works for us. We may not have the biggest condo on the block, but physical space was a trade-off for not spending precious hours getting to and from work. Also for not spending out mental space willy-nilly.
Will it stay this way forever? I dunno. Sadly my crystal ball was lost in the move. Or it might still be in one of the boxes I haven’t yet unpacked. A girl can dream to have a short commute to her job until she retires, but the world is funny that way, and what’s that old saying about how to make God laugh? Right. So I’ll just say, again, this works for us, at this point in our lives. And while it works, I’ll enjoy the (bus) ride.