I’ve been stuck on this NJ Transit train for a half hour already, I thought as I stared out of the window at Secaucus Station. I’ve already told everyone at work I’ll be late so there’s nothing else I can do but wait.
I took a deep breath and began to fumble through my bag for my magazine. It was then I felt the sharp point of a pencil.
That’s right, I thought. I forgot to do the project for the baby shower.
I took out two pages with the letter I selected on it, K, a pencil and a small box of crayons.
I think I’ll illustrate a kite on one but I’m not certain about the other, I thought.
When I bent over to begin sketching, my house keys fell out of my jacket pocket on to the floor.
“Key,” I mumbled. “Why didn’t I think of that before? That will be the second word.”
I happily drew my images, wrote the words beneath them then colored my pictures in. With each stroke I grew more detached from my concern about my waiting workload, lunchtime mammogram or mounting medical bills
I haven’t colored since I was a child, I thought. And you know what, life was simpler then.
I continued filing in my lines with crayon even though the woman across looked at me like I had some kind of mental deficiency. I was relaxed, happy and felt a sense of accomplishment.
Maybe I should color every day or at least on my way to work, I thought. I could definitely use more downtime during my day or at least a way to mentally escape.
Read days 1-59: https://nikabeamon.com
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