Just a day just an ordinary day...
How often do we view an ordinary day as extraordinary?
I feel like an extraordinary day for me is one that isn't jam-packed and filled with oh so many things to do and places to be. Lately that has been my habit. The last person I dated said I worked too much. At times, I have to agree.
So yesterday I had an ordinary extraordinary day. I had a walk/run around the neighborhood.I even picked up a prescription that had been locked in drug store purgatory.*
*when a patient is unable for a string of days to get to the drug store during business hours, the prescription is held for several days....after which phone calls are placed to the customer, threatening the filled prescription to be returned to the shelf. Thereafter its return to the shelf the customer can then RE-refill the prescription...and if he/she is just as busy that particular week, well, the cycle begins all over again.
While jogging past the shops on Park Avenue I felt pretty good. There was time enough for me to enjoy this jaunt. There was time enough for me to look around and feel and just be. And just breathe. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and it was almost 60 degrees. If it hadn't been for the leaves crunching beneath my sneakers I would have thought this was a lovely afternoon in June.
It's funny how the brain works and processes sensory information when it's freed up from constraints. You don't even realize it then...but stopping to smell the roses is no pithy idiom. When the stressors, obligations and deadlines of a busy schedule hit from every angle it's pretty much impossible to even notice the more minor but enjoyable details of life.
I stopped to gaze at a window display, admiring the pristine detail of a lettered sign.
I noticed they are tearing up the sidewalk on Berkeley. I slowed to nod at the worker who paused from his shoveling as I passed. Working on a Saturday...
I noticed that Camille's Sidewalk Cafe* is now called something different. Hmmm...
Damned if I could remember what it IS called. Doesn't matter. I'll still call it Camille's for another few months.
My birthday's coming up*...funny that this should be the only time my head has been free enough to consider that.
Maybe I better make that a footnote in this blog---so you assume that I am going to be the same age---without moving up a number. Strike this from the record.
All this reflection on how good that free time was yesterday is leading me to reconsider something. I am done writing this very blog. I've got free time to use...What am I writing this for? And why are you still reading...?
Get out and enjoy your beautiful day!
