Blake and I were walking to work together (yes, we walk to work together in the morning...it improves my morning substantially and also makes me sure to be on time to work) and my favorite trumpet player was in our metro station.
There are always musicians in our metro station because it has wonderful acoustics. Wonderful acoustics in a metro station? Yep, somehow the three tunnels coming together at one point makes for the perfect place to perform. Usually there is rather rotund man chillin' out and playing his guitar in combination "praise Jesus"/"Jack Johnson" style. I like him, but sometimes get tired of hearing prayers being sung surfer-style.
This morning the trumpeter was playing Praise to the Lord, which is a song I love, and also was probably the most beautiful rendition of it I've ever heard. I wish we could have stopped to listen, but we were in a hurry, the air was stale, and we were collectively feeling very claustrophobic.
Anyhow, the song got me thinking about how my life is exactly what I always dreamed of. But better.
I love the city. I love my husband. I love public transportation. I love street performers. I love my job. I love our new house. I love the fall (and the weather). I love living near family (but hate living so far from my parents, brothers and grandparents). I love the Indian food we ate last night.
So, even with the claustrophobic stale air, and the enormous woman coughing at my side and trying to elbow her way past me, I'd say it was a pretty glorious morning.