And I’m never leaving my apartment again.
I totally have Amtrak-induced agoraphobia. I have an intense fear that, if I go outside, I won’t be able to come home without finding my way to the NYC Port Authority and taking a goddamn Greyhound bus.
The kick in the ass: after I arrived home via a time & money-sucking combination of train, bus, and taxi, I realized that I lost my house keys. The one time in my life I’ve ever lost my keys! I waited outside for Mr. P to drive home from the office to let me in, wondering if anyone would see me if I relieved my near-bursting bladder next to the garage (no, I didn’t). The mere fact that I was considering urinating in my backyard shows how bereft of my human dignity I had become after my Amtrak ordeal.
Thanks, Amtrak. You really put the “fun” in my uncle’s funeral.
