morning

It's easy to grow accustomed after so many years, the days I walk into work and remind myself that this is their home, folks waking up in pajamas after a long night or a restful one, either way rising with the masses. These walls are the first thing they see when their eyes open and I can't help but wonder if they meet the day with a groan as I sometimes do. But for me, it's simple. I rise and pad into my kitchen and make coffee, take a shower alone with the shampoo I've chosen. I open the blinds and let the day in and might even take a few minutes to check in with all of you. But my friends, they wake up and will wait for coffee, depending on the hour and showers are always rushed and in tandem, the never ending feeling of a locker room, walking the long hall to wait their turn. Then they'll eat what we serve and will pull clothes from rumpled bags and figure out how to make it through one more day without a place to call their own.

One of the guys I know is on his way out as I'm walking in, he's got his work clothes on and a sack lunch, he'll work all day moving rich folks belongings and then come back here tonight and eat what we serve and go to sleep with blankets we offer and wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. My work, the place I earn my keep is their home. Sometimes it's easy to forget we all wake up to the same sun.

I'm scrambling these days, work is kicking my ass and I'm running short on time to write and to make the rounds but I can't stand the plus two crib sitting silent so I've lined up some sisters to come and make themselves comfortable, ones who will bring a little levity into the house and I know you'll make them feel right at home.