Repetition, Repetition, Repetition

Each and every day the eye wanders over the many objects, locations, and people that are repeated on any route that we take regularly. Certain people appear again and again, light falls against storefronts, down dark alleys, penetrating the subway stairwells. Besides the route I take, I try not to have much of a routine. Everyone else is the routine, the streets themselves unbending to my walk to and from the office. Some days, something changes and the repetition is broken. So much so, that every day one either hopes for that anomaly that changes the week for us, or dread that day completely.
The anomaly in my day seems random, so every day I must prepare like today is that special one. If I am not ready, I can either run home to get Tanya (my camera), or pass by the pig men without a chance to get their picture. Most people are unaware of Tanya until she has already done her job for me. These pig men seem to always know when I'm about to photograph them, and look at Tanya and I. This morning, I even rounded the block, stuffed my jacket in my backpack, put on a hat, and tried to take a second shot. Some people just seem to have Camera radar.

This storefront always has light cutting this one chair at a forty-five degree angle between 9:00 and 9:30. On many mornings, this seat has provided me with great subjects. I'm not quite ready to go yet, there are more days that I need the pig truck to be back, but soon the routine will be over. Does the routine can benefit or destroy us as observers? Is it something to embrace or do away with entirely?