Yes, i'm still posting....My Object Essay: The Penny

Have you ever felt lost? Have you ever felt like out of every person, and every thing, and every sound, and sight and taste, and smell, like you were just blending in; you were washing away with the tides; blowing away with the wind? Sometimes as I drive down the street I look to the people in the cars around me and wonder: 'Where have they been?', “What have they done?', 'Where will they go?'. Walking in to the convenience store I filled my drink at the machines and carried it to the register. “Just a refill today?” the tired man behind the counter asked.
“Yes, That's all.” He tapped a few keys and asked me for a grand total of seventy four cents. I handed him three quarters and he popped the till. What he handed back to me I thought nothing of. I wrapped my fist around the cool round of copper, grabbed my drink and headed to my car, forgetting it was even there. I opened my fist to pull my car door handle and I heard the quiet clinking of the copper hitting asphalt. My initial thought was to just continue on my way; to get into my car and drive to my next stop, but as I looked to the ground I watched the small, worn, miniscule representation of currency roll about a foot southbound from where it fell and land face up near the front wheel of my car. Remembering the old riddle from my childhood, and being the superstitious believer in luck that I am, I picked the coin up and flipped it between my pointer finger and thumb for a moment before climbing into my car and dropping it into the empty cup-holder on my right.
My day went on as it normally would. I went through the basic routine: go to school, grab the mail, change my clothes, go to work, make some dinner, settle down, do some homework, and finally lie down. Nothing extraordinary took place. I did not win the lottery. I did not solve world hunger. I didn't find a ten dollar bill on the ground. I did not land an internship I was after. No form of luck rewarded me in any way for rescuing that meaningless coin from between the yellow lines in the convenience store parking lot. Then I began to think. Why was I expecting reward from such a rewarding item in the first place. Who knows where this coin had been, or what it had meant to those who held it before I did. Something held of such low esteem to the majority of our vast American population, could have done great things in it's past, just like anything else that wanders.
Where had this coin been? Had it clinked against others of it's kind in the pocket of a great man: a senator or a congressman? Had it scratched the final circle on the lottery ticket that had won a family millions? Had it been the coin to flip with a bet on the line, tails meaning tragedy for one and solace for the opposing? Maybe it had been the final piece to something greater. The last coin needed, found on some cold black piece of ground, that a poor man needed to buy something to eat. It may have been the saving grace to a girl, stranded, in need of just enough to use the nearest payphone. Where had it been? What had it seen? What would it be like to know what this small coin knows?
Suddenly I felt an overwhelming sense of envy for this penny, this item branded by society as useless and miniscule, but as I looked it over, and contemplated it's life, it's meaning, all I could help but see was this beautiful object; it had been minted the same year as I, but it had surely seen so much more.