Portland, OR

Story time. 

Last night, I was coming out of the gym and got into my car in the poorly lit gym parking garage. I heard a voice, and thought I had accidentally dialed someone on my phone. As I was fumbling to pull my phone out of my pocket, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. 

A (presumably) homeless woman, half-way conscious (whole-way high on fentanyl) was laying on the floor of my backseat. It scared the shit of me, and I jumped out of the car, yelled at her to "get the f*ck out of my car". She did, as she slurred apologies, though it took her a couple minutes because she was high AF and wedged between the seats (LOL). 

As startled and angry as I was in the moment, there was also a part of me that felt compassion and sympathy for this person. I feel like I've been grappling with this mix of emotions since. 

Only in Portland...

Navigating the world of finance by day, pondering its flaws by night. ETH Maxi