Warning: Coarse language. Reader discretion advised.
I didn’t start feeling angry. I started wanting to break some new ground in my couple-times-a-week habit of taking walks around lunch time. I’d started using Daily Mile to track my distance and time and, not being a runner, the distance and “pace” it calculated after I’d painstakingly mapped my route and input the time were always more than a little underwhelming. Of course, walking 3 or 4 miles in 45 minutes or an hour is not shabby, but still. Unlike my default, today I felt driven. Ambitious. Like there was a chip on my shoulder, somehow.
Walking back to work from getting salad rolls I came across a very familiar place. It’s a few blocks from where I’ve worked for the past year and a half, and it’s on the streetcar line, so I go by this corner almost every week day. But whenever I do, even if only for a second, I can’t help but be transported back to an October evening in 1988. My first “date” with Julie.