When you turn left on Lincoln from Olympic, you hit a rough patch. It’s the same strip of cardboard signs and sunburned skin that you see when you pull off the I-10 west onto 5th.
Before turning left on to Lincoln, I paused at the red light, the couple to the left of me – not obviously cracked out, two dogs, cardboard “Homeless” signs in hand. They were a little family. I did my best to awkwardly ignore them as a cop rolled up on his motor bike to move them along. But the girl, who was my age or younger, nodded at me and then grinned for no reason. So I carried on drinking my green juice, blasting the new Taylor Swift album in my Camry.
I don’t see anything wrong with their little life. Who’s to say they live worse than me? Sure I check the boxes of middle class, young adult success… but maybe they’re happier than me.
And as I continued down Lincoln I passed a plethora of folks who live differently than I do; who clearly shop at places I’ve never seen; have priorities far different than mine.
After sleeping all day I was in a groggy haze, tired of my own thoughts and hyper aware of what was around me. At the same time, this was dusk. A time when everything is more clustered in its routine, as people rush home to their families. They move, thinking of everything except the current occurrences. Instead focused on what happened at work, what’s going on at home, what dinner should be, what will happen tomorrow.
It shed light on how simple this little world is. Truly, if you just do your best and find happiness of whatever kind suites you, then you’ve succeeded.
Also, I had to stay home sick from work today, and I’m slightly shocked that my world hasn’t fallen apart. It’s all just so much simpler than I thought.
(I have zero claim on this photo. None. I don’t even know where it came from.)