Then... a mere block away...
I feel like a horrible ungrateful slug.
On the way to work from Starbucks, I walked by a man sleeping on the sidewalk under an exhaust vent.
Did I stop to see if he was alright? No.
Did I feel guilty about not stopping to see if he was alright. No? YES!! Yes I did.
But I was also annoyed with myself for feeling guilty.
Why should I care? Why shouldn't I??
I hate to admit to being afraid to approach someone like that but I guess I am. What would I have done if he was 'crazy'? What could I *really* do if he was sick?
I muttered to myself all the way to work about why I couldn't stop and chastized myself for not stopping.
Still bothered much?
Will anyone else (more caring?) than me stop and check on him?
Will the cops come along and just sweep him off the sidewalk?
Will he just get up and move on like he's done hundreds of other mornings?
Will he eat today?
I'm obsessing aren't I? He's just fine, right?
I hate the real world sometimes.