Quickened Pace

I walk too quickly. I think the only time my pace slows is when my boyfriend has my hand in his. Like on a sunny Sunday morning when we window shop.

There's a protection mode I enter into when alone. I'm wearing the thickest armour and nothing startles me.

Today I had errands to run and with my pace I really ran them.

I had money to put in the bank. It was a big day.

My university gives us the choice to opt-out of the health plan. Yes, I'm still dependant on my lovely parents. In the real world $295.00 is nothing, maybe a cell phone bill. But in my life, right now it's huge.

First the money had to be deposited. Then I headed South on Yonge, towards College St. a homeless man leaning up against a wall held his hand up for a high-five. By the time I processed this random gesture I think I may have chuckled and shook my head. Poor guy, I left him hanging.

I rounded the corner, heading West on College St., to a drug store. An officer who had his hands wrapped around a coffee was walking ahead. Stepping up to his right, I motored past. He calls out, "Are you in a hurry or something?"

I slowed down to turn and look him in the eyes, "No, not really. Why?"

"You're walking so quickly."

"Well why waste time walking slowly. I've got places to go." I smiled and wished him a good day.

Maybe I should slow it down a bit sometimes. I may be able to make more of the journey that way.