Scene: 8 o’clock in the morning, I am rounding my neighbor’s inordinantly large front yard in my business clothes and running sneakers, en route to my trolley.
Thoughts as follows:
This walk is boring.
Their yard is too big. It adds at least a tenth of a mile to my walk to work. That’s, like, a minute. I wish I could cut through their yard instead of going around it.
This is taking forever. I wonder if they would mind if I cut across their yard. That seems like the sort of thing you should maybe ask permission before doing. I could just try once, to see if they say anything.
Who would want a front yard this big, anyhow? It’s not good for anything. It’s not as if you would have a picnic out here for all of the neighborhood to see.
Do you know what would make this better? Music. I could listen to a third of a song while walking around this yard. Or, I could sing a song. It’s a little early for that.
It would be great if I had some way of playing a song right now. Like, if I had a device with me that did that – a portable music player of some kind. And headphones. That would be ideal.
Finally, the damned yard is over.
Oh, shit, I left my iPod on the hall table.
(I glance back over my shoulder at the expanse of the neighbor’s yard.)
Their yard is too big.
In case you ever wondered, this is how my brain actually works.
