And I set out happy, happy, happy on a Friday morning.
And I set out happy, happy, happy on a Friday morning. Woke up early and also to a paycheck deposit on my phone. How could that be a bad day? It could not.
I went a little out of my way to get not just one, but TWO juices. Apple juice — just a thirst quencher on what was going to be a hot day (in Portland, anyway). The other—basically breakfast—a strawberry and banana smoothie.
With time to spare I made my walk to the Trimet looking at the rising sun as I passed over the NE 12th Avenue bridge, rubes in automobiles grumbling along underneath me. Things went by after that with the usual commute-mind-muddle. I probably listened to a podcast. I always pass a bread factory and just take that in. I always pass all the high school kids on their way to class at Benson Polytechnic High School. Never know what to think about them; odd things are afoot. I always feel gracious though, because I am no longer in that penitentiary. Maybe I bobbed my head to a drumbeat from some recently acquired music as I walked with a more New Yorker than Portland pace—that’s pep in my get-up.
Commute, commute, walk, commute.