I’m sitting at Les Schwab. That’s French for “say your prayers, you could be here a while.”
The sky is overcast, but I’m at a bar height table connected to the window. The diffused light is bouncing back and forth between the parked cars outside and the white building. While the photon spread is probably perfect here for skin tones, my eyes are squinting to type this. I can smell the coffee I made at home, infused with rubber and oil. My legs are shifting every few seconds to avoid a blood clot.
I wrote yesterday about being present. So, here I am. It’s a fun exercise, to be honest. Considering the moment. Granted, I wrote that in the context of parenthood, and this current reality is a purely adult endeavor. Somewhere over the course of the past week, I ran over a screw and, I am here. Hoping for a speedy, inexpensive, and simple solution to the almost new rear passenger tire on my paid off vehicle. The title of this essay is misleading, so I apologize if you came for the negativity. Click bait, baby.
It usually takes me a while to write up a post when I want more than a line or two. But this morning the words are rolling off the brain. Funny how that works. I have time, and it’s feeling easy. When time is scarce, these creative endeavors feel impossible. Something to chew on here about perspective, I’m sure.
By the time you finish reading this I will have figured out which sort of photo goes (or does not go) with an essay on sitting at a tire shop…
Little subjects next to big ones, in Olympic National Park. ⬇️