Unfortunately the calm of my morning yoga class could not survive the pace of the day. The average daily number of close calls with cars was met and exceeded during my rides about town. Getting to the ZG today was via Mission St. during rush hour, enough said. I wasn't even wearing a mask.
Glossy Girls Gone Weed flyers added an offensively niche-market insult to the table tops today. What a waste of printing. The waft of stale puke rode on the wind near the garden and little mice scurried about. It was an unremarkable day except for the deceivingly cool gold of the sunlight setting behind the summer fog. The Tamale Lady has let out her braids.
For a chilly Tuesday it was still comfortably filled. Being early in the week the hipsters were still safely sipping lattes at Ritual blogging about how much they hate Tuesday. I see a lot familiar faces, I briefly chat with Paul at the bar about a month at the ZG, he is a regular fixture on Tuesdays and Fridays.
We have great table neighbors on this Tuesday. Digi Dave is here with a couple of friends, we quickly cover whether we're "on the Facebook" yet. Dave fund-raises for local journalists. With the spirit of a journalist and the will of an entrepreneur, he aims to change the way journalism is paid for. I like the concept; it's refreshing to hear someone who aims to take on the current models and change them in the name of the public good.
65.5 °F / 18.6 °C
52.5 °F / 11.4 °C
Sat on the longside of the garden. Angela makes it to day 21. Jess and I consider how this journey has brought us closer together. She needs to study for the GRE.