I made it to yoga this morning (namaste) and I came home, threw myself on my bed and cuddled with Emma. “Hi love bug!” and she wiggled into my side, so happy to see me after my hour-long absence.
I rolled over on to a wet spot. Slowly, I sat up, turned around and saw a decently large spread of dog vomit. Emma continued to wag her tail. The thing is, I needed to wash my sheets anyway. I woke up with sand in my belly button this morning. I didn’t go to the beach yesterday.
Last week I told several people that I am messy, disorganized, and frantic — not always in that order, but you get the idea. Each one of them (three of them — three people shared this opinion) looked at me quizzically. “But you don’t seem that way,” they said. They must not read my blog.
I go through phases of my life where I observe more than I participate. I take in everything around me and I just stare, wide-eyed at the world. There’s so much going on. Everywhere, everyone. I want to be a part of all of it. It is exhausting and exhilarating and I’m certain that it’s why I drink. Anything’s possible through the lens of red wine. Shit, rosé colored glasses if you want to be punny. And only if it’s a dry rosé.
I’m taking a cab to work this morning. My sister has our car at her new job. I don’t own a bike and I certainly don’t think a Monday would be a good day to start biking across several large intersections. The dog vomit’s kind of enough for one day, don’t you think?
But it’s not. Something else will happen. I’ll forget my lunch. I’ll want more coffee but I won’t be able to afford the $10 minimum to order a growler to my office (which is a pretty cool thing you can do.) I’ll swear off alcohol this week … until tomorrow. And then, perhaps, I’ll start to realize that I really need a place to live because my lease is ending soon and I don’t think I’d do well couch-surfing.
I held several pairs of yoga pants and tank tops to my nose this morning. “Is this passable?”
I live among dirty laundry. And somehow, I still make it. I get to work, even if it’s in a cab. I usually remember some kind of snack, and I will definitely splurge on coffee because I need it. I am disorganized, messy, and frantic, all at once, and in varying degrees. But if I’m fooling someone else … maybe I can fool myself long enough to get through the more hectic phases of my life. Or at least long enough to make it to the laundromat.