I don’t remember turning my alarm off this morning. I missed yoga, and I’m really upset about it because the schedule changes tomorrow. I will only be able to do Yoga Sculpt in the mornings. That worries me because weights are involved. I don’t know if I can flow with weights at 6:30am. And the same class every morning? Won’t that be boring? It’s such an issue.
So, I was in a rush on the way to work. I caught myself staring at my reflection again and decided to present myself with a little challenge: don’t look in every window. I didn’t. And guess what I saw?
I saw an un-showered man waiting for the bus with an uncooked pretzel in the shape of a peace sign hanging from his neck. (Sidebar: What is the protocol for taking photos of people like this guy and then posting them on the internet? I need to know.) I wondered if some other version of myself would just go up and ask him what the deal with his jewelry was. Then I decided I needed to note this sighting in my iPhone so I could blog about it later. I, for the twenty-third time, told myself I was like a grown-up, digital-age Harriet the Spy and hoped I will find my old Spy Notebook from when I was eleven when I go home next weekend. Surely there was some good material in there.
I passed a delivery boy who had dropped an entire box of strawberries on the sidewalk next to his truck. I did a dance in my head around the idea of asking him if he needed help. I was late to work, but I wouldn’t have done it anyway. He might have been embarrassed; we might have ended up getting married. I looked at the ground and vowed to never eat a strawberry without washing it again.