I pretend its like my own miniature office, complete with a toilet and a pile of clothes on the floor and various colors of lipstick in disarray with my two toothbrushes and vitamin supplements and incandescent lighting. There is also a publix reusable grocery bag on the floor, but it lacks a bathroom specific purpose and I cant reason why it would be in here. Cold applesauce is stirring in my stomach right now, or maybe that’s the feeling I know I deliberately broke a heart and there’s nothing I can do to stop him from hating me. I need a hug. My feet tire from walking 8 miles to and from work every other day. I cant even call it work because I am just an intern and no one knows what lengths I go to get there to sit in that cold office and design graphics and strategize social media accounts for free.
Yesterday, at 7:30 am I left the door with my chromebook, charger, some water and a few other personal items in my bag and started walking. It was pretty out, one of those mid September in Florida days where the clouds covered the beating sun and the birds were traveling with the wind. I walked and walked and walked, right through this suburban area that I live. Passed old houses that have been around for decades and look dilapidated but still so full of life. As I traveled, the houses became less cared for, the houses turned into buildings. Auto garages, antique shops, psychics and Cuban restaurants, a barbecue place that was smoking ribs and making my belly grumble. I passed a daycare center, a thrift store, a building littered with presumably homeless people waiting for free food and several massive churches. I walk through the societal hierarchy, leaving from suburbia, walking through the ghettos, and arriving in the bustling downtown Tampa where I am greeted by beggars, people sleeping in small flower beds, and people in business casual clothing unaware of their surroundings entirely. The most memorable part of yesterday morning was watching the ground as I walk, with the pixies serenading me through my ipod, and seeing a flock of tiny camouflage birds emerging from a bed of leaves.
A flock of tiny camouflage birds emerging from a bed of leaves.
Just think about how beautiful that was. It made me cry. This is my life, three days a week. Eight miles. Working for free, exhausting my little feet, and crying about birds.