Routines, Broken And Not

When I start to leave work these days, now that it’s getting cooler and cloudier, I open the locker at my desk, and leave it open, so I’ll remember to take my jacket with me. So far, it’s worked. I have yet to forget my jacket at work.

I never forget to leave my desk locker door open, though, which raises the question: If I can remember to do that, why am I concerned about forgetting my jacket? (I have yet to leave my phone, my book, or my iPod at work, either.)

This morning, on my way to work, I boarded a Link train at Westlake Station, as I always do. Then, on an impulse, I exited a stop early, at University Street Station, and walked down 4th Avenue as far as the library, and then continued walking to work from there. The walk felt good.

I’ve been noticing, on the commute home, that the drivers of the 47 buses often get asked: “Does this bus go to Broadway?” (It doesn’t.) They get asked that at least once on every trip out of Downtown. It’s understandable. The 47 is so short that it’s obscure.

A guy asked our 47 driver the question this evening, and then added, “Or is that the 49?” Then something occurred to me: Once upon a time, there were three routes that went from Downtown to the neighborhood around The Capitol Hill Library (my neighborhood): the 7, the 14, and the 43. Then the 7 became the 49. Then the 14 became the 47. The numbers 7, 14, and 43 are easier to differentiate from one another than the numbers 43, 47, and 49. It’s no wonder infrequent bus riders get confused.

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