Oh, today is really not my day. Not my day at all. Wake up, Patter around a messy house, step on a Barbie shoe that sticks in the bottom of my toe, the cat decides to come in and defile his (already overfilled)litter box just when I am putting on my makeup (thanks, Sea Monkey, you fucker. Now my eyes are watering whil I am trying to apply liquid liner), Lily has PMS, and Shawn forgot to give me the car key back so he has to take a cab over this morning to drive us to school. Sweet. It's really shaping up to be a kick-ass day. I'm wondering why yesterday I felt like I had my life under control and today it feels so unmanageable. Is this normal? This up and down, up and down, up and down? Is this what I can expect to experience for the remainder of my life? How do I learn to ride the tides of this stuff and not feel like my head is going to explode off my body like some kind of Tom and Jerry sight gag?
So I get on the train. Spin the ipod dial to mellow Native American music, try to meditate. Drums, chanting. light, airy flute music. Good. Breathe in, breathe out. Healing energy in, baaaaad, negative spirits out. Good. Keep it going. Ask for a little clarity, get centered. Come on, give it to me, god. Hook a girlfriend up. Someone gets up, I slip into their seat. Things are looking up.
I Get off the train, walk the couple blocks to work, psyched cause I'm a little early, decide to stop at my coffee cart guy. Small Hazelnut and a bran muffin, please! I am super-pleased with myself. The paper bag holding the breakfast items feels a little damp on the bottom. Oh, he must have overfilled the cup. That's cool. I try and rearrange the way I'm holding the bag. Hold it from the bottom instead. Support it. Wow, that's really leaky. Walk into the building. My hair looks good. I like these earrings I'm wearing. My pointy black boots make me feel sleek and tall and like I'm a powerful business woman. I can be a powerful business woman today. I can be anything I want to today. I Swipe my id, walk through the turnstile, wait for the elevator.
Then I notice a small stream of hot liquid start to trickle from the bottom of the damp brown bag. Ow. That hurts my fingers! Immediately I hold the bag far away from my body, so as not to a. get coffee on my nice black pants, and b. scald the shit out of my legs. This is no ordinary leak. The bottom of the coffee cup suddenly gives out, and the contents just vomit forth -- unstoppable, scalding hot, like a relentless steaming hazelnut flood. I stand there, helpless, overcome with a shameful feeling as if I'd peed my pants right there on the lobby floor, and was standing immoble in a puddle of my own mess. Resist the urge to cry, go upstairs, and my co-worker kicks me in the ass (metaphorically), gives me a plastic bag, and tells me to walk my butt back out to the coffee cart guy and get a new one. Why didn't I just do that? Why do I need someone to tell me to stand up for myself? I feel so small. But I go back out, the guys are cool of course, they give me a bigger coffee for free. On my way back to the building, I pass a dude who is holding a leaking coffee cup away from his body so as to not burn himself, and he is angrily marching back over to the coffee cart. I give him a knowing look. "Tell them to use two cups today," I say.
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