Sign says 'Walk'

I'm kind of lovig my life right now. My job is great so far and I absolutely love my boss. He is just awesome and we pretty much just sit chat all day... yesterday, we sat around after a late lunch, just talking and drinking espresso, and when I finally went back to my desk, it was a quarter to 6! As in, I should have been gone for 45 minutes already. And I wasn't even mad about staying at work late!

It also feels really great to be in an apartment (sorry, Mom)! There's something about having my own space, and taking care of myself that makes me really happy. I've already figured out how to make sure I'm fed all the time; cook in bulk. Well, not a huge amount of food, but just enough so that there are left-overs to eat as another meal. Example: lasagna, Pizza, and.. if you butterfly two chicken breasts- you have four!

So today, I woke up in my comfy, huge bed and walked eight steps to my master bathroom to shower and get ready for work. I drove 10 miles to work, which is half the distance that I used to drive.. and sat there all day with a smile on my face. Then after work, I drove home, went for a run and then I walked to the grocery store with my "Super Independent Meal Plan" in my head. When my purchase was made, I headed back home with my groceries.

I was very pleased with myself at this point, by the way.

But, as I neared the corner, I passed a guy sitting on the sidewalk with a cardboard sign. It read, "Just trying to stay alive". I looked at the grocery bags in my hand and felt almost like I was parading them by him. I reached the corner and pushed the cross walk button, then I peaked back at the man behind me. He was just sitting there, staring at the sidewalk, a whole line of cars in front of him and nobody was paying attention.

I remembered my friend Michelle saying how she would give someone a granola bar or an apple when she passed them (she's a very healthy girl) and how I thought that was so nice. I looked down at my groceries and did a mental inventory. I can't give him my chicken breasts- maybe he has no place to cook it, I doubt he would enjoy an onion, or the mustard. I looked back at him again then back at the cross walk sign, it was still showing a big red hand. Another look at my groceries... then I found it.

I turned and headed back to the man, one hand digging in my bag. As I approached, I held the cup of yogurt out, and he looked up very slowly.. like he had been daydreaming and didn't even notice that someone had passed him by. He looked first into my eyes, and then to my hand. He wasn't very old at all, maybe thirty-something, with thick, coke-bottle glasses and slightly crossed eyes. When he looked at the yogurt... man, you should have seen his face light up. It was all I could do to hold back my tears, as his mouth broke open to a yellow, gapped grin.

I managed to say, "I don't have a spoon for you."

He replied, "It's okay, I have one at my campsite." Then, "Thank you, sweatheart."

I said, "You're welcome." Smiled, then turned away quickly. I knew that if I stayed any longer, I would break down. I hurried back to the corner, the cross walk sign said 'Walk'. I felt every eye on me from the cars that drove by, they had all been waiting at the red light while I handed the man his yogurt. I hoped that some of them might take my example some day, like I took Michelle's.

When I got home, I proceeded to cook my dinner (and ask my Mom some cooking questions)... and the whole time, I debated blogging about this. I thought that it would just come out as bragging, and a good deed, isn't good if it's done for yourself. I'm still not sure why I decided to post about this. All I know, is that for all the things that have made me happy recently, a cup of yogurt could have NEVER made my eyes brighten up as it just did for that man.


... just food for thought.