So I think I have this condition... and I think it's called getting soft. Or growing up. Or something. Whatever it is, I'm torn between a love for it and a hatred of it.
Here's the dealio. So the other day, I was sitting on the bus and people watching (and, yeah, okay... I was people listening, too). This thought popped into my head:
"OOOH!!! I could do a blog post called, 'The Five Types of People You Meet on the Bus!!' That would be an awesome post!"
I started thinking of all these different categories into which I could lump these perfect strangers. Then... I realized something - these people were perfect strangers. How in the world could I categorize people I had made no effort to know? I would be basing those categories on judgments and assumptions. Those judgments and assumptions could be spot on, but they would more than likely be totally and completely wrong. You see, lately I've been thinking (which usually leads to nothing but trouble), and I've realized something that may not come as a shock to you, but it certainly did to me:
Every single person we see or meet has a story. Has a life. Has problems. Has struggles.
Is it really fair of me, then, to lump these people into categories for the sake of a funny blog post? No. It's not.
So maybe I've gone soft. Maybe I'm growing up. I love it because I think I'm a much nicer person than I was five years ago. I hate it because it means no funny bus blog posts. ;)