Elevator Pitch

I step into the elevator, and the woman already there and I are going to the same floor, the ground floor. "You're at the end of your day, aren't you," she asks. I have never seen her before--I can barely keep up with my own schedule, how could she possibly know? It's that combination, she says, of looking exhausted and excited all at the same time. I figure it's probably also that look of wearing makeup that once looked like makeup, but is now mostly rubbed off or faded. And perhaps my slight inability to focus, after many hours of just trying to keep my eyes open.

What is particularly interesting, though, is that, in the course of her friendly (perhaps I'm not used to a stranger being so friendly?) conversation, she actually seems a little jealous. I look at her, and I see someone well-rested, well made up and dressed, and just beginning a potentially exciting day while I go home to collapse. She, it seems, looks at me and sees someone who, at the hour of 8am, is done with my work day, a day to myself stretched out in front of me.

We step out of the elevator, headed in different directions, with a "have a good day," whatever that means to each of us. It is early in the day for a little slice of perspective, but perspective is always a useful thing, so I'll take it. You can rarely really tell what you have until you can see it, even just for a moment, through someone else's eyes.

And that's my elevator pitch for today...