Ugh

Tonight’s the earliest I’ve been home in a while. Anymore, my apartment feels like a temporary pause between workdays. Everything here is a wreck, and it’s not going to be until the weekend that I can even begin to start cleaning the place up some more.

I’ve had a beer, and that’s saving me from ranting anything beyond what you see in the above paragraph. I think I had a good full page in me, but at this point it would take more energy than I’m willing to expend to rehash it all.

Here’s a little story instead:

On my way home, I walked down the stairs to the subway stop at Wells and Lake. As I was descending, I could hear the automated voice saying that "The doors are about to close." When I got to the bottom, the train was a fair distance away (they stop short after a certain hour). I started to run, thinking that I might catch the door. But… when I was about 20 feet away, the train started moving and zipped on by.

Today, I feel like complaining about how I missed the train, and how I got cheated. My natural impulse is to depict how I was wronged, and how unfortunate my situation was.

What I’m trying to remember is the sheer fact that I ran. By running towards the train, that one act proves to me that I am still an optimist at heart. If I stop to break things down, my running signifies to me that I am able to recognize chance when it appear; more importantly, my running signifies that a part of me believes that chance worth taking.

I need to remember the running, and not worry so much about the train.