I am Harold Crick.

So I stole this, sort of, from that movie "Stranger Than Fiction", and it goes a little something like this.  Think about your day, your actions, your life, like it's all being narated.  Maybe it's not in the third party, maybe it's auto biographical, whatever it is, it's not just happening, there's a story being written at the same time...

An example

The way it's ususalyl done - Today, I saw a really great sunrise on my way to work.

The way this idea works - I drive North to work on highway 680.  It's one of those big wide suburban numbers with 4 or 5 lanes in either direction.  It runs North and South through the San ramon valley with the foothills on the right, to the East and the suburban valley floor and more foothills on the left.  The valley floor is dotted with million dollar homes built for
people who made their fortunes working for phone companies and grocery stores when people still had those jobs.  All of the houses were built before the Targets and Chipotles took over the parking lots, before Starbucks left Seatle, before I was born.  The houses all look like exibits
in  museums dedicated to the mid eighties.  The hills still have oak trees and bushes and tall grass surrounding the buildings.  This morning at exactly 6:46 AM PST, the sun came up over the hills in the East.  The whole freeway and all of the valley was washed in morning light, all of it, at exactly 6:46, all at once.   There was still a visible chill in the air, but all of a sudden the world, or at least the valley was awake.  The fog was still rolling back up the Western hills towards the bay.  When the sun hit the fog, it looked like a fluffy grey hand petting the trees like a still green lap dog.   A small rooster crowed in my head.  I felt like part of it all.  The sun hit it all at once, me, the other drivers, the houses from the Regan administration, the cars, the trees.  All of it was there all at once and awake.

Not too hard, and it makes everything that much better...