As I walked into work this morning, a coworker asked me if I’d had trouble sleeping. (Well, yes I did, I thought, but how did she know?) Then, somehow, I realized what she’d meant. I looked at my watch. I was very early. I mean, I always get to work early, but this morning I was earlier than usual.
I don’t pay much attention to bus schedules these days. I leave our apartment at roughly the same time every morning, catch the next 43 that comes by, transfer at Westlake, and catch the next Link train that arrives, and then walk the rest of the way to my office. Apparently, the schedules just clicked this morning.
It probably helped that I didn’t stop for either a latte or a bowl of oatmeal this morning.
Around the middle of the afternoon, we spotted a small group of police officers, dressed in full riot gear and carrying clubs, near our office building. (It probably had something to do with the latest Grand Jury decision. These are interesting times we live in.) The strange thing was, they didn’t appear ready for something to happen (except for their riot gear), and didn’t seem to be guarding anything. They were merely standing casually on the sidewalk. They were gone by the time I left work.
Those police made me wonder what I was going to find when I stepped out of the building. (I wasn’t afraid, and I was kind of hoping to see some protests.) But it was just another Wednesday evening in Downtown Seattle.
I stopped off at the Post Office to buy some stamps. Then I caught a 49 bus home.