A Happier Story.
Weird weather in Boston today: rainy/windy, but a balmy 60 degrees. Word is a bad storm is on its way, but I don't care. I'm happy to not be so bundled. I wore the skirt I wore when we took engagement photos, and didn't even bring my coat.
So, but, rain. I was making myself breakfast when Sam left, sans an umbrella. Feeling wifey, I ran out the front door to meet as he pulled out, carrying his umbrella like a torch. He called me an angel, kissed my forehead and drove off.
Then I locked myself out of the house. We have two doors--the outside one's always unlocked, the inside one's always locked. When I opened the outside one, it made the inside one slam shut, and lock. Whoops. There I was, outside, in a misty rain, without a cell phone or any means of entry. I spent several panicky moments on the porch, combing through a visual catalog of all of our windows and doors, to no avail. I was scheduled to teach in about an hour, and we live 45 minutes away, and I was stuck.
Crisis averted: I remembered the stoplight down the street takes 47,000 years to get through at that time of morning, so I took off running. I was in tall brown boots and my flowy engagement-picture skirt, running down our street as fast as I could go. Darn, that felt good. I used to run an hour a day, but it's been a long time since I felt up to doing that. But this morning, in the balmy rain, with the clock at my heels, and the light changing, I ran like wind. Spotting Sam's green car ahead, I darted across the street, weaved between a few cars, and knocked on his window. The man was surprised, but kind, and I perched on top of the mound of papers in the passenger seat while he made an illegal u-turn, and delivered me home safe.
I don't know if it was the brisk jog that spurred my endorphins, but I had a miraculous day today. No crying on the way home for me. My students were sweet, the teaching was fun and brilliant, and all felt right with the world. Thank goodness that sometimes, after slumps, we have good days.
So, but, rain. I was making myself breakfast when Sam left, sans an umbrella. Feeling wifey, I ran out the front door to meet as he pulled out, carrying his umbrella like a torch. He called me an angel, kissed my forehead and drove off.
Then I locked myself out of the house. We have two doors--the outside one's always unlocked, the inside one's always locked. When I opened the outside one, it made the inside one slam shut, and lock. Whoops. There I was, outside, in a misty rain, without a cell phone or any means of entry. I spent several panicky moments on the porch, combing through a visual catalog of all of our windows and doors, to no avail. I was scheduled to teach in about an hour, and we live 45 minutes away, and I was stuck.
Crisis averted: I remembered the stoplight down the street takes 47,000 years to get through at that time of morning, so I took off running. I was in tall brown boots and my flowy engagement-picture skirt, running down our street as fast as I could go. Darn, that felt good. I used to run an hour a day, but it's been a long time since I felt up to doing that. But this morning, in the balmy rain, with the clock at my heels, and the light changing, I ran like wind. Spotting Sam's green car ahead, I darted across the street, weaved between a few cars, and knocked on his window. The man was surprised, but kind, and I perched on top of the mound of papers in the passenger seat while he made an illegal u-turn, and delivered me home safe.
I don't know if it was the brisk jog that spurred my endorphins, but I had a miraculous day today. No crying on the way home for me. My students were sweet, the teaching was fun and brilliant, and all felt right with the world. Thank goodness that sometimes, after slumps, we have good days.
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P.S. Can you e-mail me and tell me how to not eat sugar for 3 mos?