Five dollars. It’s nothing overly impressive – good for a load of laundry, one and a half gallons of gas, or a date (at Bagelz). If you're telling a story that isn't going so well, you can throw five dollars in there to immediately redeem it. For example: "I was buying milk today, and when I got to the register I saw the gum selection and decided to buy a pack, so I got spearmint..." [the listener starts fading] "...and then I found five dollars." Upon hearing the five-dollar bit, the listener comes out of his haze, raises his eyebrows in interest, and replies, "Oh? Five dollars? Wow." Story redeemed.
Today I found five dollars.
No, really. I was walking to class, shuffling my feet through the wet leaves, and there was Mr. Lincoln, smiling up at me. The bill was a little soggy, but despite that, it occurred to me: I am living the dream! I am doing things that some people only dream about and sprinkle into their bad stories. It then occurred to me that there are lots of people living the dream, they just don’t realize it. At Starbucks, a man’s coffee has just the right amount of cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Commuting to work, two people watch the sun rise each morning. A second-grader convinces her parents to let her redecorate her room – with a dinosaur motif.
The conclusion of my train of thought was thus: here I am, living the dream. I should share it, write about it, create a blog! So I have. The Daily Harold, reporting news of the dream every (other) day.
Today I found five dollars.
No, really. I was walking to class, shuffling my feet through the wet leaves, and there was Mr. Lincoln, smiling up at me. The bill was a little soggy, but despite that, it occurred to me: I am living the dream! I am doing things that some people only dream about and sprinkle into their bad stories. It then occurred to me that there are lots of people living the dream, they just don’t realize it. At Starbucks, a man’s coffee has just the right amount of cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Commuting to work, two people watch the sun rise each morning. A second-grader convinces her parents to let her redecorate her room – with a dinosaur motif.
The conclusion of my train of thought was thus: here I am, living the dream. I should share it, write about it, create a blog! So I have. The Daily Harold, reporting news of the dream every (other) day.
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