When my commute to work is longer than usual thanks to the man trying to beg the driver for a free ride; the school kids who keep ringing the bell for the stop although they don’t want it; when the weather abuses me – be it the wind knocking me around, the rain saturating me, the sun scorching me or the snow blanketing me

I find myself thinking

   I wish I was home

When I get to work and see I’m back with the mixed bag of nuts I call my co-workers; the man who wears layers of clothes with holes in his shoes and always ask you to press is floor on the elevator even though he’s standing next to the buttons; the woman who looks like Michael Jackson from the “Got Your Nose” South Park episode with make-up done by Tammy Faye Baker and dressed in fashions from the 60’s, 70’s & 80’s; the two guys who during their workday of various maintenance issues and pick up or delivery of mail they dip out to their car where they’ve got stashed a drink, a beer and a joint.

Gotta love a government worker

And again I find myself thinking

    I wish I was home

Eventually, I am released

    Able to go back to the place I longed to be

A ride train ride with the same rambunctious teens and stinky panhandlers daily

Two bus rides with more teens

    Talking too loud on their cell phones or to friends sitting right next to them

    With cheap headphones & cell phones playing loud scratchy music unwontedly filling my life

    with Gucci Mane, Trey Songz & Lil’ Somebody

    Trudging home after school with their babies in tow when they’re mere babies themselves

A stop at the grocery store to grab something for dinner

    And I’m almost home

Key in hand

    I make my way in and drop my bags

    I’ve finally made it

Home

Only to be greeted by

    A dirty kitchen with a mixture of dinner dishes from the night before and those of an after school

    snack

    My bathroom appearing to have exploded with every hair product and toiletry available for

    Purchase

    A trail of coats, book bags, books, random papers and the dishes from that snack

    everywhere kids have been through my house

I go in search of the culprits

    Finding a group of teenage girls huddled in a bedroom

My daughter’s carefree attitude when she ask what’s for dinner

    Like nothing’s wrong

    Like she’s come home and cleaned as she’s supposed to

    Like her trail personal trail of destruction isn’t everywhere an eye can rest

Before I lose it

    Before I hurt something or someone

I put everyone

    Including my daughter

        OUT

And begin to reorganize my home

    Now thinking

    I’d rather be any place

    But home right now