Playing: Myxomatosis by Radiohead
To lighten the load on what is sometimes "just life”—let's realize this much: we are all left to go about it in our own type of way.
“Ah geez, my neck hurts...my arm is completely twisted...ugh, it’s freezing inside this damn apartment...who the hell sets the AC to 59°?” Then you’re expected to go about your day.
You slug into the kitchen, and turn on the kettle. Mindlessly, you scroll through your newsfeed catching up on what you had missed overnight. This gives you an unnatural sense of calm. “Shit!”—the boiling water splattering all over the countertop was enough to wake you. You reach to grab a paper towel, and end up grabbing 10-too-many, struggling to rip off just the one, knocking over the whole paper towel holder with your tug. The plant sitting next to the holder falls over as well; specks of soil fall into your coffee grounds that have been patiently waiting to be brewed—you somehow manage to keep that phone of yours in one hand, with the newsfeed still live and showing; quite impressive. It’s only 7:15 a.m. at this time, and oh man, are you winded. “Gah, over it!”
You walk out the door, and your tote strap gets caught on the door handle on your way out. You hear the sound of a rip. “Great.” It’s not your tote strap that ripped, but darn, it’s your inner shirt sleeve. You had just bought that shirt, and it was final sale. The breeze tickles your armpit hole as you wave your arms in frustration. The coffee in your tumbler spills out of the sip-opening as you wave your arms about; you forgot you had the tumbler in hand, and you had definitely forgotten the sip-opening was still open—you were planning on closing that sip-opening earlier, but “Trevor’s post was so sick, man!” that, instead, you had to tap that thumb on that screen to like it. You almost slip on your loose shoelace as you scurry down the hallway, but hell yeah to you: you somehow manage to dodge that one. Your shoelace gets caught in the crack of the elevator door as it opens. The sudden force catapults you into the elevator abruptly. Thank God your sip-opening was closed this time...or as you had wished. It was still opened, and so was your newsfeed. Coffee stains accommodated that ripped sleeve quite nicely now. “Wait, is that coffee or soil?” You look up and awkwardly lock eyes with the man waiting his turn outside the elevator (he witnessed the whole charade go down)—the elevator door closes, breaking the unbearable stare between you two. The elevator descends to the lobby floor.
It’s 8:23 a.m., and you’ve already claimed the day as shit. The sun is out, but you never notice. Sometimes we just never notice...
You bark back at your coworker for asking if you’d like a coffee, as you make your way into the office. You drop your earphones, pick them up, then drop your parking pass, pick it up, then drop your favorite pen that slipped out of your shirt pocket—Paul picks it up when you're not looking, and pockets it for himself. You bang bang bang on your keyboard for getting jammed on the letter Y. “Hey man, you okay there?”, as another coworker peers from his cubicle over into yours. You murmur some bullshit under your breath, and your boss can't help but overhear the words as he passes by. In his office, “Hey bud, so I couldn’t help but hear how you feel ‘this place is shit’? Tell me more about that, please.” He walks you out. “Take the day off.” Outside, to your left, sunflowers in full bloom, as the spring bees dance around them in melodic formation. They’re not there to sting, but rather kiss your nose if you let them. You swing those careless arms of yours left and right, “Stupid bees.” Life is quite a charm, isn’t it?
Your car remains in park as it sits idle in the employee parking lot. The newsfeed gives you a sense of ease, a bit of a getaway from shit reality for a few moments. Then, from park to reverse the gear shift moves; you peer back towards the rear view to see the coast is clear, and you gas. The car jerks forward as you hit the light pole ahead of you. Sorry buddy, you shifted into drive, not reverse. But thank God you were able to comment “happy for you too” on the your-buddy-getting-back-with-his-ex post moments before hitting the gas. He always thought she was a whore, but I mean c’mon, true love wears many suits so let’s applaud him for that, no? Plus hurray to your good deed of the day for commenting something nice. You gas the pedal again. But hate to say it, you're going nowhere with that pole ahead of you and with your car still in drive my friend.
Your shoelace dodges that crack of the elevator door this time. And you dodge that banana peel as you make your way down the hall back to your apartment. You slide past the neighbor lady, Dorothy, moments before she wails a sneeze your way. The door handle works in grace this time, and so does your silly tote strap as you let out a repressed sigh of relief for making it home. Coffee in your tumbler is lukewarm and soiled, but hell, you’re ready to make a fresh batch once you’re settled. It’s 12:11 p.m. and “Holy, what a goddamn day.” Eyes glued to your phone already as you kick off your shoes. One shoe practically knocks over your stride, as you somehow step over; and here was the universe gifting you a sincere “You’ve endured quite the day my friend. Take a load off. We got it from here,” but you had not the slightest idea as you flick the bird to the world peering out your living room window. “Ha! Take that, wiener ass day...I’m ordering a pizza.” Pizza arrives with mushrooms. You’re allergic.
….And to think that blue skies always exist. To think that the sun will always shine. In another world, a warm morning shower would've soothed that stiff neck, and soothed the soul. A kettle brewing and fresh ground coffee could've played as the perfect recipe to a cup of a morning pick-me-up; one paper towel to wipe the remaining crumbs of the poppy seed muffin that was left sitting in a small paper bag on your countertop (earlier, you had forgotten you grabbed that for yourself the day before, but we can't forget, a dancing goat on your screen was definitely more important). Tote strap getting caught on the door handle could’ve been the perfect time to adjust all things: your loose shoelace, your open tumbler sipping hole that you had forgotten to close twice, your twisted shirt sleeve, and your crooked tie; Scott smirked at the sight of your armpit hole in the breakroom earlier, but oh how you never noticed. All could’ve been quite dandy going into your day, my friend. You would’ve taken your coworker’s offer on coffee. Hell, you would've even paid. Keyboard jammed? “Hey Jimmy, cool if I borrow your extra keyboard?" High-five and finger-guns to your boss as he passed by your cubicle. A full 8-hour shift of well-earned pay. A bonus for helping complete Chelsea’s work from when she was home sick the other day—treat yourself to some damn Thai food, why don't you! Well deserved, my friend. The bees outside making way as you proceed past the sunflowers; you pick a flower for yourself. Upon walking towards your car, you stumble on your shoelace. You were doing just so great, but you just couldn't manage to keep those laces tied huh? “Oop, I’m sorry.” You peer up to see her, and stutter, “Oh, no. Uh, my fault completely.” You had dropped your phone, and the sunflower as well (you realize you had barely seen your phone that day). A bit still uneasy, “Hey, uh. I’m sorry for bumping into you. But uh ..here. This is for you.” She takes the scuffed sunflower as you pass it over, and she shares a warming smile. "I recognize you from the office. Todd, right?" You smile with her recognition. You catch a quick glimpse of “It’s always Sonny outside” written along her inner tote bag as you nervously cut the encounter short and continue past her. You wave a friendly good-bye from the distance, and realize 1. she had already looked away, and 2. you forgot to catch her name—smooth one buddy. However, one simple thought to yourself, “That’s funny. I wonder if she knows she misspelled ‘sunny’.”
Car in reverse, as you triple check this time; car moves in reverse as you gas the pedal. On the road, the sunset illuminates your forward view, and you can't help but smile—a kiss of sunlight for the first time that day. Thai food in your passenger seat as you approach home. You share a “hello” with Dorothy as you make your way past her down the hallway. Your hello saves her from her possible sneeze attack that was stirring up in her nose. “Oh...hey there neighbor! Mm, that food of yours smells awfully good.” You hand her your extra side of coconut shrimp. “Enjoy some Thai food, Dorothy,” as you proceed to your apartment. You kick off those day shoes, and nicely place them at the door and out of harm's way. You throw off your clothes moments after walking into your bedroom as you cozy up. The last of the day’s sun shines through your bedroom window and fills the room, as you share another smile with yourself—a perfect sun leak illuminates the pile of clothes now on your bedroom floor; you can’t help but hear a subtle vibrate coming from the pile. You reach down towards your jeans pulling out your phone that you had forgotten remained in your jean pocket this whole time. You tap to see a notification on your home screen: “Sonny Day sent you a friend request”.
And to think some days are just shitty, or absolute blue skies.