I wake up, barely, drive to work, open the bank, check my email... He wakes up, sings a song, eats a worm, sits on the fire hydrant for awhile. We go through our morning routines together. It's amazing how alike our mornings are.
I've been watching him for awhile now; him, perched on his hydrant, and I, on my teller stool; but the last week or so he's been watching me as well. We stare at each other for two or three minutes every morning. I wonder if he thinks I'm as strange coming to sit here every day, as I think he is.
Today he closed the distance to get a better look at me. He flew over to my second drive through lane and landed confidently on my tupe dispenser. He had his morning worm (he's an early bird, like myself). He looked me up and down for a bit - and then - on with his life.
Sitting behind my huge, glass windows -I feel that every morning I'm at the zoo, but is he the exhibit, or am I?
Apologies for a lack of posts - I am currently without home internet - so all my web-ing is at work, during my free time.