Being

A sitting-related trauma? Too many seat-bound classroom hours? Why am I unable to sit still for any significant amount of time?

As I march across Jerusalem to work, I see the benches along the way and wonder: Who sits there? Who has the time? What do you do while sitting on a public bench? Read? Stare at people? Okay, could be fun. For a while. And oh, of course, you could play on your phone. Gosh, I’m not sitting down just to play. What games does this dumb phone of mine have? Snake?

I really didn’t get the sitting-on-benches thing until one day in late pregnancy. It had been the kind of day where I kept glancing at the clock and thinking: “What? It’s only 9:34 a.m.? Is this clock broken?” and started wishing I could conjure up a personal servant to hand me fortifying cups of tea (is it legal to train the kids to do this?). The day did finally sputter to a close, and relieved, I packed up my bag and left work.

Thankfully, my bus arrived almost immediately, and I sank into the first seat available, bracing myself for the mad joyride up Rechov Sorotzkin as the busload of passengers was thrown from side to side. I gratefully stumbled off at my stop, crossed the road, and… spotted the bench.