I clamored onto the bus, half asleep. I was perpetually tired this week, not getting the full 10 hours I was used to, usually clocking in at around 7 or 6. No ones fault, I just wasn't comfortable with the bed I was sleeping in.
I sat down next to the window and waited for the bus to take off. It finally did, around 1. I tried sleeping, but the movie that was playing was fairly ironic and fairly loud; Changing Lanes, a movie all about a small car accident. Naturally, we were watching it on a bus.
We stopped in DC to pick folks up; I don't know who they were, but we were sitting there for arond thirty minutes for them to climb on the bus.
The movie ended and the driver was too busy driving to put one in, so I tried to get comfortable. The only position that worked for me was my elbow against the window, with my hand over my head, my other elbow against the headrest of the seat next to me, with my hand on top of my headrest. I laid my head in the crook of my arm against the window and almost instantly fell asleep.
I woke up three hours later, at around 5, with a strange feeling. I couldn't move my arms. I tried, but I couldn't move them at all. The bus hit a bump, and they both fell from their respective positions and into my lap/into my seat-mates lap. He didn't wake up. Contorting my shoulder, blade, I got my arm off of him before wondering just what exactly was going on.
I know how Ashton Kutcher felt in "The Butterfly Effect" when he awoke with no arms.
But they were just asleep. In such a deep sleep that I couldn't even conjure the power to move them. For all intents and purposes, my arm was about as useful as a Slim Fast in a fat school; they were there, they just weren't gonna be used for a while.
It took an hour for the feeling to return to my right arm. I moved it up and away, and used it to lift my left arm. By the time we left Jersey, I could move my left fore-arm, but I couldn't use my shoulder or upper arm. I could feel the muscles moving, contracting, I just couldn't move them at all.
We pulled into the city at our stop at 7, meaning the bus only spent 6 hours give or take driving, subtract the time we spent in Washington. We made incredible time.
And by the time we pulled into Canal, I could barely move my left arm. Don't need to move an arm much to drag a suitcase, though. As soon as I got back to the apartment, I crashed.
Not entirley true. I had pancakes. They were delicious. Then I crashed.
That was a weird-ass bus ride.
Mal
I sat down next to the window and waited for the bus to take off. It finally did, around 1. I tried sleeping, but the movie that was playing was fairly ironic and fairly loud; Changing Lanes, a movie all about a small car accident. Naturally, we were watching it on a bus.
We stopped in DC to pick folks up; I don't know who they were, but we were sitting there for arond thirty minutes for them to climb on the bus.
The movie ended and the driver was too busy driving to put one in, so I tried to get comfortable. The only position that worked for me was my elbow against the window, with my hand over my head, my other elbow against the headrest of the seat next to me, with my hand on top of my headrest. I laid my head in the crook of my arm against the window and almost instantly fell asleep.
I woke up three hours later, at around 5, with a strange feeling. I couldn't move my arms. I tried, but I couldn't move them at all. The bus hit a bump, and they both fell from their respective positions and into my lap/into my seat-mates lap. He didn't wake up. Contorting my shoulder, blade, I got my arm off of him before wondering just what exactly was going on.
I know how Ashton Kutcher felt in "The Butterfly Effect" when he awoke with no arms.
But they were just asleep. In such a deep sleep that I couldn't even conjure the power to move them. For all intents and purposes, my arm was about as useful as a Slim Fast in a fat school; they were there, they just weren't gonna be used for a while.
It took an hour for the feeling to return to my right arm. I moved it up and away, and used it to lift my left arm. By the time we left Jersey, I could move my left fore-arm, but I couldn't use my shoulder or upper arm. I could feel the muscles moving, contracting, I just couldn't move them at all.
We pulled into the city at our stop at 7, meaning the bus only spent 6 hours give or take driving, subtract the time we spent in Washington. We made incredible time.
And by the time we pulled into Canal, I could barely move my left arm. Don't need to move an arm much to drag a suitcase, though. As soon as I got back to the apartment, I crashed.
Not entirley true. I had pancakes. They were delicious. Then I crashed.
That was a weird-ass bus ride.
Mal
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