that 7-minute

tren-tren

From the house, I take a 7-minute (brisk) walk to get to the highway. It is during this time that my eyes and my mind wander off in almost everywhere.

Seeing grade schoolers makes my heart jump every time. I always try to smile at them whenever our eyes meet, no matter how tired, terrible, and anxious I feel. Sometimes I get second-glances and sometimes I get a weird look. But most of the time I get giggles. If they only knew what they do to me, they’d probably walk with their head up high. They remind me of my past, of how I must have used to be: just a young student who just wanted to get to school on time. And they remind me of now: my dreams and the urgency to do more. And the future: my daughter’s of course.

I’d be a hypocrite to say I don’t rant and whine about every small to big bit of things. I do. But you know when you’re actually trying to be patient for something you couldn’t wait to happen but you know you must wait, it just shuts you up.

You just know you have to step on it but not step on someone’s toes. And you just know you might need to talk but not trash-talk to boast or insult. To quote my favorite Joey Tribianni of the old sitcom, Friends, “Seriously guys, the trash talk is embarrassing.”


Someday we’d get a house near our workplace, and my daughter’s school. Someday. Someday soon.