hit the road, jack

i was already running late for my morning shift. five am comes early when you’ve spent only three hours sleeping, and especially when all three of those were spent lying down on the unfamilarity of someone else’s couch. throwing any hopes of rapid awakeness behind, i ran to my car parked on 10th and e. lynn. but the san diego zoo, god bless america bumper stickered mpv was nowhere to be found. squinting my groggy eyes to make out the sign that hung just above my once parked car, i read ‘no parking 4-6pm’. damn it. i had parked it there between 4-6pm. lucky for me, though, metro’s number 49 arrived to swoop me away and drop me off just five minutes late to work. at my 10am break, i walked over to sit down on the concrete slabs they call steps in front of the picturesque westlake center to make my phone call. mom, ‘i’m sorry, but your car has been towed.’ after hanging up my tears and my short-lived shame, i heard a full-bodied rendition of my favorite hymn being played on the sax by that one jesus music man guy (insert further character development here). it almost brought me right to the welcome mat of the pearly white gates. the lyricless melody of ‘it is well with my soul’ cradled the ill-timed distress, as i sat there with the sun warming my face.