It was 8 a.m. (today actually)
As I opened the door to exit my home to begin my 35-minute commute to Beachwood, I took a minute, or two, to take in the natural surroundings around me.
A warm wind was blowing in from the west.
Trees were opening their leaves happily gasping for CO2.
A rabbit hopped around the field.
The clouds were white and puffy, like little fluffy feminine napkins.
The sky as blue as Windex.
It was then that my attention turned to a man, in full Lance Armstrong biking gear, peddling up the road. He was huffing and puffing but had a intense, yet content, look on his face.
"Must be nice," I bellowed out to the man as I tossed my laptop bag into the car.
The man looked over and smiled.
"Yep," he yelled back. "It is."
For the first time in my life I realized that this work stuff is definitely getting in the way of my free time.