The written word is not dead.

Since I started riding the bus last week, I’ve read my National Geographic, my Smithsonian and my Yoga Journal and am now working on M.F.K. Fisher’s With Bold Knife and Fork, started ages ago but constantly backburnered by periodicals.

This is great. You’d think that someone who doesn’t watch TV would have plenty of time to sit around and read to her little heart’s content. You’d think that, but you’d be wrong. There’s always something going on or about to go on or needing to go on and more often than not that something is not reading.

Now I get to kick back, avoid eye contact with the freaky bus rider across the aisle from me, discard all stress about traffic, and read read read. It adds up to over an hour a day, which ain’t too shabby. That’s time which used to be wasted sitting behind the wheel (although the waste was not total, since it gave me the chance to hear Marketplace and All Things Considered).

Heck with the whole “save gas and wear on the car” thing. This is the real reason that riding the bus is a good idea.