casual buddha

I walked all willy-nilly on my morning walk, allowing Tuesday to take me where it would, me directionless with the occasional checkpoint: Spruce Street and Quince Street bridges; kitties on the tar of a back parking lot. Tuesday carried me out to the middle of the First Avenue bridge too, who knew, crossing over three bridges by a 7am.

Now the floor calls for some floor stuff. And there’s a scant amount of peanut butter and yogurt in my next-hour future, before water runs down the drain, and me off in the ’02 Camry to OB and the Co-op, getting to hang with Jolene, who says “Hello” and “Have a a good day” to just about everyone.

Stuff like this rubs off in all kinds of good ways. Heck, Tuesday just encouraged me to go so far as to call it groovy.