Instead, let's talk about what I felt, saw and smelled.
I smelled the bitter, green scent of weeds in the late afternoon as they sensed their doom.
My rough hand felt the rough skin of a tree in the midafternoon sun.
I felt the tension of two tiny handles, spiraled handles as they grabbed onto my weak little arms to support the yummy sandwiches held within.
I felt the cool door handle against my warm hand.
I felt my bosses voice pulling me away from the people needing my assistance at the front.
I heard the loud crowd of the restaurant disappear back into the streets.
My feet detached themselves from the ground and swayed in the air as the refreshing cold beer relaxed all the stress from my day.
Nothing matters once I clock out, except my food and my time to myself.
Now, it's rush time once again