This morning I walked to my office. I wish I remembered a jacket. The wind and rain chilled me to the bone.
This afternoon I shifted to the shortest checkout line at the store. In front of me stood a 70 year old lady, bluish silver hair, with lipstick about 1/4” beyond her lips. You know the one. She was writing a check… in slow, deliberate cursive, just like she learned in 3rd grade. Sheesh.
Driving home, 3 different cars made quick right hand turns in front of me, only to slow down to 5 mph below the speed limit. It was “pull-in-front-of-David” day.
I am blessed.
At the end of my walk, I went inside and enjoyed my work.
Waiting to checkout, I was able to grab a warm loaf of French bread as a treat.
Slowing down gave me time to appreciate arriving home, like every night.
And, with my extra delays, I got to reflect on life and put it to words.
I guess we can wait for a 24-hour holiday to give thanks. Or, we can realize that every 24 hours is pretty awesome all by itself.