My day started around 4:00 a.m. when I woke myself up from a nightmare that I had somehow made it to 40 weeks of pregnancy and I was about to be given Pitocin (interesting because I never formulated my opinion on Pitocin because I expect I will never be in the position to need it, and otherwise, women can do what they want with their inductions or lack thereof) and begin the labor process, to be overseen by one of my co-worker doctors. In the dream, I suddenly realized that there was no way I could give birth nor be a mother, and I’m not being facetious by calling this a nightmare–it was as bad as the bad guy chasing me while in a room full of spiders variety of nightmare. So I went back to sleep feeling so much relief, and awoke again with my alarm at 6:30.

My mornings are rather regimented. I know that I should be getting dressed at 6:40, finishing figuring out what my hair is doing at 6:50, cleaning the litter box at 7:00 (I don’t know why I feel the need to cram that into my mornings), and in my car by 7:10 so that I can be at my desk by 7:30. It only takes me eight to eleven minutes to get to work, depending on traffic, but I have to allow time FOR traffic and also for my recent habit of driving down the street, worrying that I didn’t lock my door or turn off my space heater, turning around, going back to my apartment, and going back inside to discover that I certainly did lock and unplug, respectively. And I need to get to work early because in my world, early is on time and on time is late. I never claimed to be easy-going.

So today, I was on track, and I had my TWO (I don’t know why) tote bags packed, my pocketbook, and my travel cup of coffee ready to go. I was holding all of that stuff as well as a quart-size measuring cup of water. Someplace, I have a can of ice melter which is great for frost on my car, but I can’t find the can, so I figured I could DIY it by pouring four cups of hot water on my windshield. So anyway, I was holding a lot. And I got into the hallway and was very focused on locking my door because I have to focus so that I don’t have to turn around and double-check myself. And as I was crouching down to set down the measuring cup, I felt warm liquid seeping onto my leg because I was pouring coffee all over my jeans and shoes. The good news was that the coffee wasn’t hot, but the bad news is that it was sugary, so instead of having a burned thigh, I had a sticky thigh. So I maneuvered some of my paraphernalia back inside and stayed optimistic that this situation would enable me to take two trips, like I probably should have originally. I put my pocketbook in my car and poured the hot water over the frost, then went back inside to retrieve the rest of my stuff and change my pants and my shoes. Then I went back into the hall and concentrated on locking the damn door again.

I got to my car and in the time it took me to change my pants, the formerly hot water had turned to ice, as water is wont to do when it’s below freezing. I was less optimistic about things at this point, so I grumbled as I turned on my car and turned on the windshield wipers in hopes that the wiper fluid would melt the ice. Then I got out and went to work scraping my windshield, and of course it was more difficult to scrape ice than it would have been to scrape frost. And as I scraped, the wiper flung itself at me because I forgot to turn it to the “off” position. It was when my fingers were nearly amputated when I yelled at the top of my lungs, “GODAMMIT!” I surprised myself. I didn’t know I was going to yell, and I never use the lord’s name in vain–that is one of the very few tenets of organized religion to which I adhere, for some reason. But I REALLY don’t make a habit of shouting obscenities a few yards from my neighbors’ front doors at 7:15 in the morning. It just isn’t the way to win friends and influence people. I don’t actually want to be friends with my neighbors, but I don’t want to be enemies, either, and it seems that I might have to work harder than average at that since they know I do abortiony work.

So anyway, I hollered in the street and stomped back inside to just get another supply of hot water. The door from outside into my hallway doesn’t really latch easily (Hi, internet, come and attack me, please.), so I kicked it open out of rage, and it made me feel a teeny bit better for the .2 seconds before I tripped up the stairs. For some reason, I wasn’t concerned with the kicking, but I did get concerned about waking up my nearest neighbor, so I just growled at the stairs. I got more water, dumped it on my car, and drove off at 7:23, shoving an oatmeal raisin Luna Bar in my mouth.

I took some deep breaths and reminded myself of how we learned in yoga teacher training that we have the power to make the decision about how to react to less-than-favorable situations. I told myself, “Today will be a good day. I will put this little morning debacle in the past and all will be well,” and then promptly tossed the last few bites of my breakfast into the air. I have no idea how that happened, but it went flying and the trajectory was onto the floor where I put my feet, and I’m also teetering on the edge of compulsive about germs. “No!” I yelled. “That was my breakfast! I wanted to eat it!” And then, miracle of all miracles, I glanced down to see where the bar landed, and saw it perched in the little handle that you use to shut the door from inside the car. I shoved the rest of it in my mouth with gratitude, and clocked into work at 7:31. The day did improve, but I did fall into my car after yoga tonight.

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