Losing my religion

Woke up at 7:20am this morning, but had no point in being awake so I went back to sleep for another two or so hours. Got out of bed to find the house completely empty - just like old days, so I undertook the usual routine of hopping on the computer, but this time I ended up going on a Howcast roll and must have watched hundreds, from everything from How To Eat Ants to How To Make Donuts. But what was of most interest (and use) to me was learning how to whistle with my fingers, and a variety of culinary recipes. This left me craving a Vietnamese/French iced coffee, but it did not sit so well, probably because of dodgy condensed milk (should have used a new can). Still nice though.

Did nothing for most of the day, except a haircut (maybe next post) and bowling with about twenty of the Seftoners. Friend's mum was nice enough to give me a lift to prevent me being late, which was pretty funny because the two of us ended up being the first there and we did not start until 5:40pm. Games were $7 each, which was sweet, so we all played two games. Got a lot of gutter/strike combinations strangely enough. Magically disappeared as usual at around 7pm to find it raining outside. I had worn my Levis and suede sneakers too, sigh. Luckily, the run to the station was not that far, so not too much damage was done.

It was a strangely poignant (probably the wrong word to use here) trip back home. With probably 1km left to my stop when the bus driver asks if we can stop for a couple of minutes. I said sure, and he proceeded to pray on the floor of the bus. It was a repetitive yet solemn process as I watched him stand and kneel a number of times before we were on our way again. I certainly admire his faith, much more than mine haha. I asked him if he did it everyday, even on the bus and he told me it was five times a day. Damn man, dedicated. Makes my Buddhism practices extremely casual, but I suppose it is a matter of comparison.