time time time, what has become of me?

Back at work three days a week. The plan was to do some paid writing on my lunch hours. The reality is when do I look at what the Internet is doing?

My curiousity for the world holds no bounds. Too much sometimes. On my new commute home, in an attempt to not just gun it and hope I can rev a Honda through the gridlock, I watch you. All the red lights, all you out there. The late 50's suit salesman propped up out front of a dying business, on a dying block, sucking back a cigarette and remembering a year in his life that held so much more hope. The brisk walk of the tiny Chinese women, bags overflowing with exotic (to me) vegetables, steadfastly ignoring the panhandlers. The school kids, jackets dangling off one arm, immune to the new bite in the dusky air, hopping up and down pressing the Walk button 47 times.

I watch them all. These are just a select few of the people that have no idea I've catalogued them in my head, like a weird collector of human culture that will get pinned on my memory board and quickly be replaced by a grocery item I forgot. Still, I catch little snippets of your day, mundane as f-ck, and let the ensuing stories I make up in my head entertain me for the ride home. This is my time, no Mama here, just me. The maniac is being well entertained by Grandmas and good friends so I can go make some money in a quiet office and slowly sip a cup of still hot coffee. This is what my life looks like right now.

Today, on a grey ride home, two still lifes caught my eye. Phone at the ready, I snapped these pictures.