Each Day Is Like The Other

Sometimes I can't remember what movie I watched yesterday, what day I requested that prescription on line, or even what day of the week it is. Did I wear this pink shirt two weeks ago or was it just a few days before? It's like deja vu sometimes how each day kind of blends into the next so that I can hardly differentiate one from the other. I am not the only creature of habit though. It struck me one day that the path I take as I go through my daily routine crosses with others who also seem to be doing the same old thing every day just like me. At least for that brief moment. I wonder if they ever notice me as I notice them.

I hear the familiar footsteps of a lady who lives in my complex and the gate slamming behind her as she makes her way out to her car. I hear the engine roar to life signaling to me that after my usual three snoozes if I don't get up NOW I'll be late. I finish my quick morning routine and am walking out my front gate. There she is again. The lady who lives across the street is sitting on her front porch as I carry my sandwich in it's cute little pink container and cross the street to my car. She is usually wearing red plaid flannel pajamas, smoking a cigarette, and sipping something out of a mug. I usually find myself wishing that I was sitting on my front porch in my jammies NOT smoking a cigarette and drinking warm coffee while the glow of the early morning sun warms the pavement instead of going to sit in an office for the next 8 hours.

At work I boot up my computer, eat my PBJ, and drink my coffee while I settle in for the day ahead.

At 12:30 pm like clock work Oscar the friendly security guard who knows everyone is making his rounds and greets me with "Hola" as he strolls past my desk. He usually follows this by saying how many days there are until Friday and we laugh. Every day from Monday to Thursday is just a countdown to Friday after all.

At around 1:30 pm I walk the same path down the hall, through the door, down the stairs and through one more door. I am usually on the phone by now talking to Mj. Like a fixture I see her sitting quietly in the lobby reading a book as I walk by. I think she is probably on her lunch break like I am. As I sit in my car chatting with Mj half way through my break the fifth and final character of a day in my life gets into the passenger side of her own car. She is usually parked right next to me and I watch as she pulls out her reading materials and her lunch for the day. When my hour is up I head back into my building chatting with Mj up until the last minute to finish out the last part of my work day.

By 4:58 pm I am shutting down my computer relieved that the work day is finally over. It usually takes me about 25-30 minutes to get home and less time then that to get into my comfy casuals for "me" time. I have a precious 4 hours or so in the evening to relax which usually includes the Internet, a movie, TV, reading or any combination thereof. Then, It's time for bed when I will hopefully sleep and then will gratefully wake up to do it all over again the next day.