I don't know why I'm even writing this really, because it’s just… it’s a silly thing, I know it is, but it just made me feel so AWFUL and I can't shake it and I just need to get it out I guess. It was on the bus ride home, like it always is, and it was after a ten-hour shift and you know how it is, the phones just RING and RING and RING, all day long, people yelling about their internet or their electricity or whatever and my ears just ache by the end of it, just a constant buzz, and my head just feels full of cotton and I just want to be home in my quiet house. And the bus is always packed, always, because it's the only way to get out of town and back to the crossroads, you know, where all the little roads split off to the farms and everything and people are always coming in for work or appointments or whatever and it’s just… it’s a lot of noise. And I usually just put my headphones in, even if nothing’s playing, just to have some quiet, but my old Walkman (yes, I still have one, don’t laugh) ran out of batteries and I forgot to charge my phone so I was just sitting there, trying to be invisible, trying to just get through it. And this woman next to me, she was talking, just talking and talking and talking on her phone, and she was so LOUD, just projecting her voice like she was in an empty field and I just… I couldn’t take it. And I know it’s not her fault, really, she probably didn’t even realize how loud she was, and she was probably just trying to talk to her sister or her friend or whoever, and I should have just ignored it but my head was just POUNDING and my ears were ringing from all the complaints all day and I just snapped. I just leaned over and I said, “Could you please, for the love of God, just be quiet?” And she just stared at me, her mouth hanging open, and then she just lowered her voice and mumbled into the phone and she just kept glancing at me and I felt her staring at me the whole rest of the ride and I just felt… I felt like such a monster. And I know it was rude, really rude, and it was a terrible thing to say, and she probably thinks I’m just some grumpy old busybody, and I probably am, really, but it just… it just came out. And now I keep thinking about it, just replaying it in my head, and I just feel so ashamed and I wish I hadn’t said anything. I usually just keep to myself, you know, in a small town like this you don't want to make waves, everyone knows everyone's business anyway and I've always tried to be a good neighbor and a decent person. And it just made me think, you know, about my whole life, and all the things I didn't say, or the things I *should* have said and didn't, and now I’m just… I’m getting older and I’m still stuck here, still taking complaints from strangers, and I just feel like I wasted it all, like I just let it all slip away, all the chances to do something different, something more, and now it’s too late. And then I go and do something stupid like yell at a woman on the bus because I’m tired and grumpy, and it just makes me wonder what kind of person I even am anymore, really. And I know it’s just a silly little thing, a little moment on a bus, but it just feels like more than that, like a symptom of something bigger, something I just can’t quite put my finger on. And I just wanted to tell someone, even if it’s just into the void, because I just feel so… I don’t know. I just feel bad.