A few days before the weekend, somewhere in between my walk through the common, the Chinese gentlemen I pass every morning (as I wonder with continued conjecture as to their conversation), my morning jog (which I have skipped this week because of the cold and lack of a running partner to help me keep my ritual) and a review of the previous night's thoughts, I walk into Starbucks, order my CM, sit down, glance over the New York Times and just watch everyone else participate in their own Wednesday morning schedules.
I like to call it "mice getting cheese". We are the mice, running around to get our food. The pattern, the cycle . . . not that I am criticizing, just questioning. Among other thoughts: am I right, am I wrong, am I crazy or otherwise misdirected? Don't answer that.
Unique? We all are. What we do with it – this is what matters.
I am going to skip Starbucks tomorrow morning.
Meeting adjourned.
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