Other things have helped me smile more lately. As I drive the bus, I look more for the good while trying to ignore the bad. My soul has been wounded too many times to dwell much on the sickening. Each shift finds me living for the moment, smiling at people behind the mask and hoping my eyes tell the story within. I truly do love meeting new folks, alternately hesitant to make a connection. I battle sadness as the constant PTSD interferes with peaceful interaction with those I serve.
Run for union office, some tell me. NO. It's not something I would be effective at. Be a trainer, others encourage. NO. I don't want to fake my "professionalism" when I'm still perfecting myself as a bus operator, nor do I aspire to mingle so closely with an upper management that remains so out-of-touch with the professionals who do the work which makes their positions possible. I just cannot do it.
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