Each and every day is different. I like that. It makes our lives so rich and full. I’m not sure why, but my brain felt compelled to take in many of the sighs of today’s morning commute which I may have been forced me to find neutrality (so as not to judge), noticed a dichotomy of intention in the person observed, or simply thought the sight was worthy of sharing.

• A woman so intent on her phone conversation, albeit hands free, that she seems unable to decide if she should turn right or just sit at the intersection with a long line of frenzied, late for wherever-they-needed-to-be travelers.
• The man in his wheel chair, amputated leg, who is out smoking a cigarette every day when we pass by — no matter how early or late we are.
• A man on the bike; flashing lights and fluorescent head to toe, with his iPhone strapped to his arm and earphones pushed deep into his ear canals.
• The man with the leathered skin, decked out in soiled army clothes, saluting the cars from the center island, while holding a sign that says “Please HELP” while everyone who passes looks the other way.
• A jumble of emergency vehicles, two mutilated trucks, and the guy dressed as the Statue of Liberty, dutifully (or ignorantly) dancing and spinning his sign just a few feet away.
• The string of kids and parents, on bikes and on foot, bundled up in their jackets with lunch boxes and backpacks, heading toward the nearby school.
• And me: drinking in my coffee, the morning sights, and the wonderful satisfaction of making it through the rest of the workweek.

It is Friday! Let us rejoice.