Sometimes, days are just plain terrible. The universe decides to work against you for 24 hours, and so the same day your hair is puffy is the same day your dog dies or your heart breaks, which inevitably coincides with the day your boss actually notices you walking in late in your less-than-business-casual torn Converse to mark the occasion.
A few days ago, I decided to return to my 5:30 AM workouts, in a move to to restore a sense of order and sanity in my life, (a move which conveniently followed a moment of angst last week when my favorite black jeans tore as I made futile attempts to pull them up and over my increasingly large behind). I returned from the Iron Yoga class feeling a bit weak, most likely because I returned from my three week hiatus only to use the wrong weights (the heavier ones) throughout class. I decided to make some eggs and coffee for me and Manu.
My parents woke up and filed into the cold kitchen. My father leaned over my mediocre egg production and sighed. His latest hobby is making elaborate, gourmet meals of restaurant quality, and my omelet did not seem to cut it. I ran out of time, and so made the omelet into scrambled eggs, much to his dismay, and my mother muttered something about my ability to survive in the real world. (Not sure why people in the real world can't just eat scrambled eggs.)
I scarfed down my meal and ran into the shower, where I slipped on a bar of rose soap.
I then ran into the kitchen to grab some bananas, for even in my haste to make the train I knew I needed to start saving money (the world is ending in 2012, so I need to buy some flashlights). As I ran into the kitchen, my mother handed me a hot cup of coffee. I told her I didn't have time to drink it, and she looked utterly crestfallen. I poured it into a thermos, and with my new magenta ear muffs sliding up to my forehead, my bananas sticking out of my coat pockets, and my purse wide open and dispersing receipts and chocolate wrappers on the ground, I ran with my thermos of steaming coffee to the car. My sister was waiting at the wheel. "Ready?" I looked at her, and was about to nod yes, until I yelped. "My phone!!"
She had begun to slowly reverse, and then stopped. "Go."
I ran back into the house, threw my gloves on the counter so I could adeptly search for my phone. It ended up being in my jewelry box, so I grabbed a pair of earrings with my phone, and ran back downstairs. I left my gloves on the counter, so that by the time I reached the train station, my hands had become brown icicles.
I had missed my train, and I didn't have enough cash to go to the French bakery next door.
As I waited twenty minutes for the next train, I sifted through my personal mail for anything interesting. I was hoping for a love letter or an invitation to Hollywood, but instead saw Merriam Webster's Word of the Day (yes, I'm a word nerd. And I'm proud of my subscriptions.)
The word of the day was swivet.
Swivet means a fluster or panic or extreme state of agitation.
Rucha flew into a swivet as she was an hour late for work, could not feel her frozen and sore extremities, and smelled like a sweaty rose with coffee breath.
I smiled (to myself, of course. Lunacy is in the eyes of the beholder.)
I had learned a new word.
A few days ago, I decided to return to my 5:30 AM workouts, in a move to to restore a sense of order and sanity in my life, (a move which conveniently followed a moment of angst last week when my favorite black jeans tore as I made futile attempts to pull them up and over my increasingly large behind). I returned from the Iron Yoga class feeling a bit weak, most likely because I returned from my three week hiatus only to use the wrong weights (the heavier ones) throughout class. I decided to make some eggs and coffee for me and Manu.
My parents woke up and filed into the cold kitchen. My father leaned over my mediocre egg production and sighed. His latest hobby is making elaborate, gourmet meals of restaurant quality, and my omelet did not seem to cut it. I ran out of time, and so made the omelet into scrambled eggs, much to his dismay, and my mother muttered something about my ability to survive in the real world. (Not sure why people in the real world can't just eat scrambled eggs.)
I scarfed down my meal and ran into the shower, where I slipped on a bar of rose soap.
I then ran into the kitchen to grab some bananas, for even in my haste to make the train I knew I needed to start saving money (the world is ending in 2012, so I need to buy some flashlights). As I ran into the kitchen, my mother handed me a hot cup of coffee. I told her I didn't have time to drink it, and she looked utterly crestfallen. I poured it into a thermos, and with my new magenta ear muffs sliding up to my forehead, my bananas sticking out of my coat pockets, and my purse wide open and dispersing receipts and chocolate wrappers on the ground, I ran with my thermos of steaming coffee to the car. My sister was waiting at the wheel. "Ready?" I looked at her, and was about to nod yes, until I yelped. "My phone!!"
She had begun to slowly reverse, and then stopped. "Go."
I ran back into the house, threw my gloves on the counter so I could adeptly search for my phone. It ended up being in my jewelry box, so I grabbed a pair of earrings with my phone, and ran back downstairs. I left my gloves on the counter, so that by the time I reached the train station, my hands had become brown icicles.
I had missed my train, and I didn't have enough cash to go to the French bakery next door.
As I waited twenty minutes for the next train, I sifted through my personal mail for anything interesting. I was hoping for a love letter or an invitation to Hollywood, but instead saw Merriam Webster's Word of the Day (yes, I'm a word nerd. And I'm proud of my subscriptions.)
The word of the day was swivet.
Swivet means a fluster or panic or extreme state of agitation.
Rucha flew into a swivet as she was an hour late for work, could not feel her frozen and sore extremities, and smelled like a sweaty rose with coffee breath.
I smiled (to myself, of course. Lunacy is in the eyes of the beholder.)
I had learned a new word.
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