Sunshine Day

Have you ever had one of those weeks where it seems like your whole world is crumbling around you and you just can't seem to even sweep up any of the detritus? Sure, everyone has. The best part of a week like that is the next week. This morning I actually got up at 6:30 am. Okay, I bargained with my reasonable side for one snooze, but I never even fell back to sleep. I was so proud of myself. I turned on the radio to "Good Day Sunshine" by The Beatles, one of my favorite songs from my favorite Fab Four album. I ate breakfast. I know, it's scary. I left the house early, which was good, because, as has happened for the last six work days, the bus arrived at the corner just before I could reach it. I'm talking seconds. The options are to wait for the next bus, or start walking and helplessly watch the next bus pass you and get to the station just before the W train arrives. I waited. But this time, I wasn't even mad. How could I be? It's so incredibly ridiculous that six weekdays in a row, no matter what time I leave the house, the bus arrives at the corner with no chance for me to catch it. Normally, I'm irritated and say bad words, but today I wasn't late, so I didn't get mad. Then, when I did get on the bus, I realized I had not refilled my Metrocard, so I had to get change from one of the ladies on the bus. Still wasn't a bit put out. Because I had to get a new Metrocard at the station, I missed the W and had to wait another 10 minutes. But I had happy mix tape action in the Walkman, so, even when there were absolutely no seats on the train (until I scored one at Pacific, yay!) I was a happy camper. When I arrived at work, I was still early. I beat all the 9:30 people in. I'm sure that without the background of my daily self-flagellation for the past 6 years over my lateness to work, this doesn't really sound like much, but trust me. Any day I show up to work less than an hour late is a good day for me.

Even with the heartbreak of PageMaker and three hours of scanning photos today, my spirits remained high. Now, my brochure is ready to print, the paper has been ordered, everything is being handled, and I can breathe. Did I mention I even ironed my clothes last night? I love these brief spurts of adulthood I get now and then. They almost make up for the hungover weekends I spend on the couch, eating hot wings and watching V.I.P.