Something about each day felt so special.
In a way I, maybe, couldn’t put into words.
Even though I had made that my job (in a certain way).
Everyone seemingly did their best, and exceeded what I had come to expect.
So sometimes I could hear the water running in a sink.
I think I could hear when it was hot and when it was cold.
The water hit the metal sink sides differently.
Sometimes I could hear chatter from my friends.
About holidays and gifts and family and other friends.
Sometimes I smelled leftover food from a party.
Or just from hanging out.
And it all felt very.
It felt like all the things I enjoyed.