Look, there is no getting away from the fact that we are very busy professionals constantly solving problems. Our own and of our clients. These are our chosen careers and most of us are good at it. Some of us may actually enjoy it.
I fall somewhere in the middle, in that void of haze, confusion, excitement, belonging and obligation.
Sure, there are highs of helping someone, solving their problems, making a difference. Those are followed by the lows of having to act for a client who you don’t like or examining a set of accounts for a millionth time. In the long run it all averages out to an acceptable situation. At least, that is everyone’s hope.
On a day when all of the above averaged out I decided to sit and waste time.
A small cafe on a street corner. A place to be alone and surrounded by people, all at the same time. The coffee was strong and I needed it.
Obviously, this wasn’t the first time I sat in a cafe drinking coffee. However, it was one of the rare ones when I wasn’t meeting someone, checking e mails or talking on the phone. Or, looking at my watch performing some meaningless mental math concerning travel time to the next appointment.
Then, I began to see the endless procession of people marching in front of me. They were old, tall, skinny, fat, young, beautiful, sad and mysterious.
There was a young woman who must have just found out she was pregnant. She radiated health and satisfaction and couldn’t wait to share the good news. I noticed a man who was obviously late for an appointment. I felt bad for him as sweat would pour off of him when he got there. The two sixth or seventh graders, behind him, seemed satisfied that there is no more online instruction and they were back in the classroom. Wow, people really like their pets. An endless parade of walkers of various dog breeds. They are dedicated, I thought. There was that married couple with their young children and a dog. Walking carefully, slowly but resolutely. Must be going to get ice cream. Or, toys.
Procession of fashion, moods, dreams and hopes. Some realized, some not. Some realistic, some bordering fantasy. I never noticed how many hair styles there really are. I concluded that I like most of them. More or less. I hoped that the young couple, who seemed to be on their first few dates, would make it and be happy for a long time. Have children, maybe.
When the streetlights came on it seemed the right time to go.
I checked my e mails and phone messages. They seemed to have accumulated in an orderly fashion, beckoning and daunting me. Almost mocking.
I decided to return calls and e mails tomorrow and ordered a glass of wine.