I have started to notice the more subtle aspects of my daily commute lately. Having made the exact same trek every weekday morning for the last two years will do that. The cashiers have not yet started greeting me by name, but I am relatively sure they see me on a more regular basis than their district manager. The traffic patterns are the same; I know exactly when to get in which lane. The same vehicles make the turn off the main road to take the detour through the neighborhood by the high school to avoid the traffic jam at the intersection ahead. As I drive by the private school, I see the weary faces of the teenagers in the passenger seat facing into the rising sun. I briefly think back to my time doing the same, only more often than not I was dozing off in a seat on the bus or sprinting across the neighbor's yard to make it before the first bell.
My humor today was a truck with Mississippi tags completely decked out with a Detroit Lions paint-job and covered in decals for the win-less football team. If that guy can get up every morning and hold his head up high, I have no reason to ever feel downtrodden.