I have 2 routes i can take to to this assignment.
One is for good days, one is for hard days.
It’s just impossible to tell yet which is which.
There is point in the drive where i have to choose: about 25% of the time i am freezing, slurping coffee from the caffeine teat, scanning the radio for something, anything to set a rhythm. 25% of the time I am jamming already, not really thinking about anything, just enjoying the coffee and bouncing, hurtling facelessly towards another day’s sunrise. 25% I am listening to some NPR prattle about politics, and thinking, hey, good point. good point. 25% of the time I am emperor of some insane interpersonal circus, conversations invented or relived, grand podiums of righteousness or quibbling. The eternal fucking existential foxtrot. That’s what a commute is.