I’d had a full day before I even got out of bed.
“… and as we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our souls, there walks a lady we all…”
I take a hearty slap at the alarm clock.
Normally, when the alarm goes off, I, like so many others, bound out of bed, refreshed and optimistic, ready for the coffee buzz that surely awaits me; and so, of course, Wednesday started out in just this way. I lie in bed, admiring myself, a paragon of efficiency and practicality that –
“… won’t you fly-yyyyy free bird, yeah…”
What? What the -- OK. Again with the slapping of the alarm clock. So maybe I haven’t really gotten out of bed yet. Maybe if I just lay here for a second and gather my –
“… she taught me to WALK THIS WAY! Talk this way…”
I have now slapped myself 30 minutes further into the day than I am prepared for.
Hurling myself from the bed, I run in increasingly wider circles in an attempt to put a muzzle on my rising panic. Undies, shirt, hair – hey, haven’t worn these pants in a while. I pull my boots on, wind various bits of clothing about my neck and head and am out the door, yoga bag on my back, cleverly pre-packed lunch bag hanging from a shoulder. A quick two-block hustle, and there it is: the bus stop. I just need to cross. I just need to cross the road. If only the cars would let up…
Here it comes! Here comes the bus and I can’t cross! He’s a block away when I start waving my arms. “I’m here! I’m here!” my arms say. “I just have to cross the street!”
WHOOSH. This is the sound the bus makes as it goes by. The faces of a half-dozen fellow commuters stare sympathetically at me. “Awww,” their faces say.
I take a deep breath, a deep exhale, and take off running. I’m in great shape! I can catch the –
The bus reaches the red light two blocks away, pauses dramatically – the tease – and takes a right on red.
I am doomed.
I hike the six-seven blocks up the hill to catch the 10, a sweaty and ham-string pulling affair that has me making up stories about my dramatic rescue from some sort of tundra setting in no time. I am two blocks from the top of the hill when another bus shoots by.
I take a deep breath, followed by a deep exhale.
I reach the bus stop, a lonely little place on a bridge, where I stop sweating and begin to chill in a winter-appropriate manner. I am well into my imaginary interview with Good Morning, America regarding how I survived my experience in the tundra using only my iPod and my wits when the bus pulls up.
Heat. Blessed heat.
Making my way to the back, a process involving stepping around people who spill into the aisles, several live chickens and a group of men rolling dice, I sit down to discover why I hadn’t worn these pants in a while.
The zipper won't stay up.
I take a deep breath - and hold it.
36 comments:
The day can only get better. One can hope.
You burned a lot of calories, which means you can eat something really nice for dinner. And you gave us a great story, too.
Glad you made it!
First, safety pin between the zipper and the button. Second, you are always a delight. I'm so glad I live in the south! We had snow on Monday and it had all melted by lunch time.
Normally, when the alarm goes off, I, like so many others, bound out of bed, refreshed and optimistic
Really? Wow.
I don't think you are going to need that yoga bag today unless you have to wear the pants when you get sick of checking your zipper all day:) B
And you won't need to exercise for ages, Pearl. After a start like that the only way is up.
bless you...
and i hope you can find a safety pin. :)
When you get home toss those pants in the garbage ... or ... donate them to a thrift store and spend the next few days smiling as you think of the hapless individual now trying to keep the zipper up.
Not an auspicious beginning to a day. I can hardly wait to read about how the rest of it goes.
Don't you hate days like those?
Running in increasingly wider circles to muzzle the panic - oh, yes, I can identify. What a great description!
I hope your day had something wonderful in it to offset the start :)
After all that calorie-burning you need a slice of cake!
Winter is such an extreme season.
My day is eXactly the same as yours eXcept for the part of me leaving the house and the bus and the pants and the chicken and the tyranosaurus rex and the band of pygmies chasing me with poison coated spears and snakes, theres snakes in my plane but its not the Sam Mule El Jackson but San Diego Raiders of the Lost and Found Department of Insanity. Yes, I am doing laundry and going for a walk n the park. Later. But first I must find my cake pan, my long overdue cake pan ....
Your day can only get better from here. The worst is over. I hope.
The "10", as always, sounds interesting... and a bit like that bus I rode in Mexico.
I solved the problem with alarm clocks way back when I was young and not completely stupid... I placed the alarm clock on the dresser. That dresser stood some 8 feet from my bed and 4 foot high. I therefore had to leave the bed and could not simply crawl across the floor to silence it.
Holey moley, forget yoga, you could do cross country.
Wow! What a way to start day. Hope it gets better from here.
I wrote a thing about pants last night because I couldn't sleep. Pants are a relaxing concept --even with zipper troubles-- but I feel like a relic left over from yesterday.
I know a hill and a bus that teased me shamelessly. The zipper is the cap of it all. Bless you, Pearl. You always make my day.
It's going to come good in the end.. I know these things...
Failing that, Friday is just around the block!
You really rock before you even get up. With that music in your head you should have been able to catch the bus!
I thought I was the only one who had sucky days like that.
Should we form a club? ;)
even though you might not, we love that you take the bus.
"run in increasingly wider circles in an attempt to put a muzzle on my rising panic" - put a great image in my mind
I also got started about 30 minutes late this morning. Late for work. But I feel better now-thanks. At least I didn't have a bus (or two) to miss.
Oh my! Sounds like you were off to a rough start. All of your bus stories make me so glad that I drive my car to work and that I don't have to worry about catching a bus every day. I hope your day got better after that.
Nowhere to go from there but up, but look on the bright side: you got your exercise out of the way early.
Sad. And in my experience days which start that way continue their down-hill slide. Which might give you a post or six, but has nothing else to recommend ti.
I slap the alarm clock several times...and I have never bounded out of bed! :( But, then, I'm not normal, so there's that!
Things could be worse...the rear seam could have split; you could have discovered your blouse had come unbuttoned; you look down to discover the shoes you are wearing do not match; you look in a mirror to see you only made up one half of your face or you have a large chunk of food between your two front teeth or...well, could be worse.
I hope you were wearng a sweater long enough to cover your gaping zip.
When you reach a certain age (not yet)I maintain thatwe gals should keep that part of their anatomy concealed. Even Joan Collins.
Good music first thing in the morning, though.
Knowing what your lipstick means to you, I pray that Target is able to restore you. Thoughtfully, your sistah in faith, SF~~~~~*
A group of men rolling dice?
That's a little risky. If the bus hits a bump and the dice jump, so they have to roll again?
Like the first line. A lot.
I should be reading you in a newspaper on a daily basis. You are magnificent. I mean that most sincerely.
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