Change. Please.

It’s the same, isn’t it? Every week starting too early and you’re out of coffee and you’re tired getting to work and you’re tired of work and everything that goes along with it. You’re worried about your life and money and if what you’re doing is really making you happy, and if it isn’t, what in the world are you going to do about it.

It’s the same, isn’t it? Every morning, every day and it’s cold and you dig your hands deep into your pockets as you walk and turn up your collar to block your face from The Chill. You wonder if it will every get warm again, if you’ll ever start to feel things again and you worry about your life and the future and if you’ll ever find love, and if you don’t, what in the world are you going to do about it.

It’s a struggle to keep going sometimes when you know what’s coming next. And each day ends too late and you’re heading home reminding yourself as you walk (hands in pockets, collar up) to buy coffee for the next morning, and the next morning, and the morning after that - until a hand reaches out in front of your face on the corner of Houston and Broadway causing you to jump, jolting you out of the sameness of your life as the jingling sound from the half empty cup echoes in your ears, saying what you’ve been saying to yourself all day every day for as long as you can remember: “change, please.”