Possibilites

This is a day full of possibilites. Ever thought about what that really means?

It means those mechanics across the sunny morning rush of taffic might somehow cross my path today , and their gray overalls might become intricately connected with my blue Pot Belly shirt in this social circle of life.

Ever thought about how many chance encounters we experience in any one given day?

There were the countless cars of purposeful people we passed only minutes ago (we being my mother and I). My dear mother patted her highly-piled hair and dropped me off at Caribou Coffee, so I could properly enjoy my remaining hour before work.

I am so in love with these wooden tables and this bitter, heavily-sugared coffee. I am in love with the two police officers drinking ocffee near the door that gave me "the nod" when I entered, and the younger one that gave me a smile of appreciation. Well, it was either appreciation, or he found it amusing that I opened the door, felt a sneeze coming, shut the door and waited, sneezed, and then entered my favorite, as of yet uncontaminated, coffee shop.

$1.73. That's worth this atmosphere, wouldn't you say? But enough of me. I'm taking away all the mystery of this random blogging & coffee morning. What a wonderful way to begin the morning, though! Celebrate the last day I work at Pot Belly. I honestly don't know that I'll miss it too much. I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to soar on these unknown clouds to the Jazzy tunes of the '20's. Past or future... I don't care where I go!

I wish I could describe something unique. As it is, in my effort to obtain privacy, I am in the corner of this Caribou Coffee place all by myself, left to the checker marks on the high wooden table, the rush of sunny traffic out the window to my right, and the spectacularly clean window directly in front of me which looks out on...parking lot. lol.

A young boy just waddled up, and with him a significantly chubbier, younger, and more clueless little boy you will never see. I say clueless because it took him 5 minutes to look up at me and stare curiously, whereas the other, more persceptive boy has been watching me with open curiosity upon sighting me.

Beyond a smile and a 'hi', I'm ignoring them both, because the worst thing is befriending a strangers' children. Why? Because when the stranger finally arrives (which she just did) she would naturally be suspicious of her children's new found friend. But... maybe that's just my own paranoia. Maybe it's what I automatically think of other people who are friendly with strangers. I'm suspicious. I'm thinking "Where's your motive? What do you have to gain? What do YOU want? Who do you think you are?" I don't know why I always put myself through such drama. I'm so used to being behind a counter when I talk with strangers, that I'm slightly uncertain of what people want from me/think of me when I can't give them food. I have no REASON to talk to them. So why should I put myself through something unnecessary when I'm not even certain they will WANT to talk to me?

Thus, our social circles continue to be intricately combined, but thinly separated by a certain sense of individual pride. I, like many people, am prone to find a private corner, and observe life from a distance... imagining myself in it... imagining myself as that middle-aged mother who watches her children and answers their pertinent toy questions, beginning with a "Yes, hon," when they cry, "Mama," helpless of solving their own simple problems.

I can't imagine such a responsibility. CHILDREN. How does one answer every question and love them supremely above all else? The latter seems inevidably eaiser. No? Yes?

My parents always pointed me to the Bible. That was the answer to... everything. And if the answer wasn't written clearly, there was always some applicable principle. I suppose even now that teaching guides me. I see myself in the reflection and know I am similar to all these people rushing with places to go, and yet... I am different. Different from them ALL. Somehow I must know and understand myself in order to understand random people. People keep to themselves because it's easier. At least, these are the people I know up north. I don't know. Do people change as one goes south of this land?

I do believe people change according to their environment. Not always. But there is a change in people when they are faced with different circumstances. Like this coffee shop. It makes me sentimental. And yet, I've always had a POTENTIAL for sentiments within me. This place, a pen, and paper, just reveal and document it.

* NOTE * This entry was written on Wednesday, August 27, my last day of work at Pot Belly (thank you, God), and just 3 days before I leave for college. I fly down south on the 30th and say goodbye to cold, drafty, northern winter, and HELLO to rainy, muggy, warmer weather. ;) I have mixed feelings about it all... even I cannot decipher what it is I am thinking about.... COLLEGE. It seems big and looming and mean. Everyone just keeps telling me it's so humiliating to be a freshman, and you know what I said? TOUGH. Every one there was a freshman at one point. The only thing that separates them from me and it, is time. Same with 7th grade. Wasn't highschool a little frightening to enter into, too? And what about kindergarten? I don't remember having any fears, but I hear it's a terror to begin school for the first time EVER. So I've gotten this far. I figure I'll make it. Might even have fun. ;) Anyways, I'm sure I'll talk to you guys later before I leave. Been kinda busy, as you might guess. If you want to contact me, feel free to comment here, or email me at countrygirlstyle@gmail.com. I will do what I can to filter through my stalkers, and reply to those of you who are good, upstanding people who just happen to read my... very long blog. ;) No, seriously, though. Thanks for reading.