I roll out of bed tired but eager.

Eager to start the day or to get it done with,I'm not sure.

But I rub the crusty sleep out of my eyes and trot on my tippy toes to the bathroom sink.

I don't think I can do with the extravagance of a limo picking me up everyday,but I would actually not mind a driver.

My past transporter had been somewhat of a money sucker but since most transports don't really lean towards picking up in my area I stood by that one.

Late last year I found one-my current transport-and passed it to my mom.

Turns out we've been paying about quadriple the amount to the old one.

Damn.

The only downside to this years transport is that I wake EVERYDAY and the Godforsaken hour of 5.30am.

(More so I roll around till six,but if I got up at six I would REALLY actually get up at 6.30)

So that includes me rushing to shower 5 minutes prior to him-my transport- reaching.

I long for the days I had a comfort of a driver but somehow my family has always gotten the rotten luck of a bad,irresponsible driver. (Though blessed with an amazing Kakak,who has been with me since I was 7) And now my parents give me the excuse that they'd need to buy a new car if the driver came along as none of them are willing to give up their cars.

So they await the day I finally drive.-How honestly thoughtful!-

Though I must say I do sort of enjoy the quiet of the transport.

Following the as said transport include a pair of twins,a chinese boy and chinese girl. All form three. A form four girl whom I have sort of befriended since she is the only one who talks,sometimes. And a lone other FormFive boy who apparently is of mixed parentage as well-though he doesn't look like it,but that totally is besides the point.-

Mornings are usually started with me greeting him and him grunting politely-it is sort of possible,isn't it?- and the rest of the journey left bumping,nodding in silence. It's too dark to read my book so I usually,hum and sing-sometimes I even remember some chinese songs that have been playing on repeat on the radio-and pray I don't fall asleep on someones shoulder.

Which I have,just so you know.Many times before.

Since only the other FormFive boy-let's call him J- is the only one who stays in my area.

Both of us sit behind with the FormThree Chinese girl.

The little cute old uncle who is our transporter drives only second to that guy whose name escapes my mind as of now. That guy from TopGear,what do we call him? The Stig. right him.

He speeds through speed bumps leaving us half flying.

And makes impossibly sharp turns. Sometimes I forget he's a cute little old uncle and think he's some kind of mad automobile test driver-which in my defense I LIKE-but not in an uncomfortable Avanza. Which is very uncomfortable, I might add.

the journey home adjourns with me reading The Time Travellers Wife. I have yet to put down that book, simply because I have no time to finish it just yet. I am left engrossed in my own thoughts of babymaking and Henry and Kimy and The Meodowlark house, I almost forget that my bag is placed between me and J,leaving him very little space to sit comfortably in,let alone breathe. Embarrassed, I mutter a small sorry and inch closer to the window,where he nods to say thanks. Usually we look and each other and share an awkward but yet totally fitting smile shared by two people who understand the moment of that moment. When Uncle makes gravity defying turns leaving us bumping into each other,grasping hand railings,bags,edges of windows and very seldomnly, each other at the tips and edges of our uniform so we don't make anymore semi awkward touches.

After that the ride is just usually silence. Me back to my book and him to his thoughts.

the sunlight leaves me tired and hungry and eventhough I never get sea,car,plane or -insert anything- sick,it leaves me a little dizzy and I put the book down. I look outside the window guessing peoples life stories and make vast assumptions that the old lady in the floral print batik shirt may actually have some dark past to hide. I pass dark coloured cars,buildings and I see my reflection,if only for a minute, sometimes I look tired but other times I see the longingness in my eyes to somehow break free of this cage I'm in.

What cage?

I'm in front of my house,I can hear my baby dog bark.

I whisper a quiet bye, and thank Uncle and gather my things to leave.

I could get used to this,right?