I couldn’t find my keys this morning. I decided it wasn’t worth stressing over since, they had to be around somewhere. I grabbed the spare set and stepped through the front door into a warmer than usual morning. I took a deep breath and tried to reset and let go of the crappy, “Monday mentality”. I opened the car door and tossed my backpack onto the passenger seat before getting in. When I reached down to put the key in the ignition, “DAMN”!!!! There were my lost keys…in the ignition….which was turned halfway on…and had been since the day before when I got in briefly to roll up the electric windows. Needless to say, the battery was dead and my Monday mentality came flooding back as I sat in a bit of a stupor trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I was going to have to walk to the train station. I only live a little over a quarter of a mile from the nearest train stop. So, no biggie. It was just the unexpectedness and the Monday-ness of it all. I walked the walk and got all sweaty and yucky and a tad bit grumpy…oh and thirsty too. I found a bench in the shade & took a seat. Again, I talked myself through my Monday blues and counted my blessings. A little boy, maybe 2 yrs old came trotting past me. Nevermind the heat, he was wearing little red galoshes. They were up to his knees and his pants were bunched up around their tops. He had a temporary tattoo on his forearm and boundless energy. His caretaker kept imploring him to sit on the bench. I jumped up and offered him my seat. I thought he might feel shy about sitting next to me. He never did sit though. He was too busy inspecting the premises and making pronouncements such as, “Trains have doors and steps!”
The train was full of families headed to the zoo. Tiny, hoarse voices narrated the ride and squealed with delight when we entered the Robertson Tunnel. When the kids and their folks piled off the train at the Washington Park stop, they took the music of their little voices and left the rest of us with nothing to smile at as the train hurled us toward the obligations of the day.
Close to my stop, I spotted a woman wearing a white summer dress. She had a tiny dog under her left arm and held a giant, pink cocktail umbrella over her head. Gliding past Director Square Park, I smiled at a baby in a one-piece speedo and a bucket hat, knee-deep in the water from the park fountain. And finally the train stopped at Pioneer Square, my stop. I emerged from the train onto the bricks and saw a young man with electric-red, razor-sharp hair standing next to a young woman with blue-ish hair. I thought, ‘hello Monday. I have arrived’.