I’ve noticed some parallels between life and our weekly donut hour. Donuts seems to be a microcosm of our lives. We go to donuts, hoping to see someone we haven’t seen in a while, but they’re busy, or far away in their offices. Sometimes, we choose the same donut we’ve chosen week after week, and wish we’d chosen a different one. It’s possible to choose two, or even more, but we all know how we feel about guys like that. With the people, too, it’s easy to talk to the same faces week after week, comfortable in our rut, when we know we should branch out and talk to someone new.
Maybe it’s the stress of finishing, I don’t know…
PS->Donuts this week courtesy of Tim Terris. Thanks, Tim!