Three out of four days of the school week, I sit in the same wooden chair at the same wooden table facing the same direction: towards the window. Wobbly at its feet, the chair still serves its purpose well; covered with scratches, the table does the same. I sip my drink of choice and stop to look around for a while before returning to my work, but not before taking note of who is around me and what they are doing.
I will admit that I've grown rather envious of these lovely couples that enter my sphere of contact on a daily basis. How do they do it? I could have sworn that chivalry died a long time ago. Perhaps its not manifesting itself in the right way. Perhaps its not manifesting in me at all. Maybe it's something I'm doing, or something I'm not doing. I can't afford to be an Eleanor Rigby, but I also can't afford to become too distracted.
Let's see what tomorrow brings. I think I should bring a sweater this time; it sure does get cold.
In a few.
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