little things #2: life's bluebirds

Every Friday at my work, at approximately 8:30 AM, two boxes of fresh donuts are lovingly placed atop the file cabinet to the left of the R&D printers. We get a catered breakfast of pastries and fruit and bagels on Fridays, which we all appreciate quite thoroughly, but these donuts hold a special place in everyone's hearts. Their source is a boisterous old man who makes little noises whenever he picks something up and has a small bit of white hair on either side of his head and glasses that always sit a little crookedly on his face. His name is Jerry. 

No one seems to be exactly sure of what Jerry does, or why he feels the need to shout at people he hears coming down the hallway around the corner, or how he gets away with making fun of the safety officer on a daily basis, but I have realized one thing: on an early Sunday morning, Jerry is the bluebird chirping incessantly outside your bedroom window, loudly and without regard to your fatigue. And while, in that moment, the thing you want most is to lie in bed and look at nothing but the insides of your eyelids, it won't be long before you are silently thanking the bluebird for waking you up in the best way it knows how.

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