Carlie Schwaeber ’12
Web News Editor

I have walked to and from my bus around 4,888 times since kindergarten.

I am usually not too self-conscious about admitting to people that I take the bus—­I don’t mind taking it.  However, I draw the line when snow gets involved.

When I walk past the Dodges’ house, the Sherman’s house, and that other family’s house whose name I can’t pronounce, I can’t help but think of the embarrassment I will have to face as the bus comes to pick my sister and me up.

I say “embarrassment” because during the winter, every morning in which we are running after the bus (which is many mornings), I slip and slide on the ice, trying to catch the only transportation I have to school.

Then comes the difficult decision I must make:  should I attempt to sprint after the bus and risk the chance of slipping on the ice?  Or, should I trot slowly, making the bus wait longer than it already has?

I think I’ll trot.

So, as the bus waits for me, I mistakenly look at the faces in the window that used to be asleep, but now have little smirks painted on their faces as they enjoy their usual morning entertainment: The “Carlie is a Loser” show.

But that’s not even the worst of it.

After finally getting on the bus, I face the issue of getting to my seat.

This seems like an easy task, but thanks to my extremely puffy winter jacket and large backpack, I unfortunately bonk all the students on the head with my swishing book bag while trying to get by.

I find a seat and quickly try to get myself situated.

This doesn’t turn out so great because my gigantic backpack is jutting out even more than usual, due to my winter jacket, so it won’t slide off my shoulders unless I make a fast motion to the right, resulting in another student getting hit in the head.

I ultimately get my backpack off my back, which takes a good whole minute, but the mess doesn’t end there.

I get seated comfortably, and all I want to do is lean my head against the window and listen to my music.

Unfortunately, this isn’t going to happen.

First of all, the window is freezing, and of course I don’t realize this so I put my head against it, excited to close my eyes and get an extra 15 minutes of sleep.

To my dismay, I open my eyes five minutes later with the side of my head numb.

Secondly, I can’t face the prospect of moving my frost-bitten hands, therefore I am unable to reach for the zipper of my backpack and get my iPod.

For a tired teenager, this is too much energy to be expended this early in the morning.

So, as a result, I don’t move a muscle until I arrive at school.

Let’s not forget how frustrating it is when the bus driver forgets to put on the heat.

In the spring, if I am hot on the bus, there is a simple solution: open the windows.

During the winter, however, I don’t really want or have the energy to politely yell across the bus to ask the driver if he or she could put on the heat.

So, I sit there and freeze.

When we arrive at school, I now have to strategically plan how I will exit the bus in a non-embarrassing fashion.

This doesn’t work out, of course, and I end up being last off the bus, carrying my bag with my freezing hands, squeezing through the aisle.

Here I am, innocently trying to get to school without any problems, and I am now embarrassed, cold, and in an awful mood.

Worst of all, it isn’t even 8:00 a.m yet.