When Life Tests You

This morning I forced myself out of bed at 7am to shower and prep for work. I wanted to get in super early and knock out a few assignments that are best completed when the office is empty. To cut back on prep time I decided to take with me a protein shake for breakfast and an apple with almond butter for a snack. I lovingly mixed coconut water, a banana and a scoop of vanilla whey protein in my mini-blender and told myself, "Drink it when you get in while you're finishing the exhibition labels."

I woke the babies up, gave instructions for the day, told them I loved them and walked out the door at 7:45am ready to make Wednesday great.

Life, however, had other plans.

When I stepped out of the subway I felt a drop of something fall on my leg but I ignored it and continued walking along 7th Avenue. The the bus came and I decided to hop on, only to feel a great big drop of something wet when I placed my bag on my lap and sat down. Yeah, you guessed it- my entire bottle of breakfast shake had overturned and spilled out onto my belongings in my bag and was leaking out the bottom.

Everything was soaked: my manuscript; files I'd brought home from work; my dayplanner; Post-It Notes where I'd written semi-important dates and information; MY USB DRIVE WITH DIGITAL COPIES OF EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WRITTEN; and my already almost dying iPod mini. Soaked. And reeking of banana and vanilla. And sticky beyond belief. It wasn't even 9am.

HELLO, WEDNESDAY!

Once in the office, I cleaned up as best I could and asked K to bring me a new bag later on. And even though I could feel my cramps kicking in (oh yes, my period had just arrived as I desperately tried to wipe all the traces of banana from my USB drive!), I popped two Advil (which I never do but felt it was necessary today) and was ready to start my day.

When the office manager arrived and said she was going to the cafe to get breakfast I said, "You know what? Me, too. My breakfast was ruined and I deserve a sinful treat." Downstairs at the counter I asked simply: egg and cheese on wheat toast, no butter. As the guy began to write down the simplest of orders I should have known this wasn't going to go well. Turns out he was the only one there this morning, taking orders, taking money and cooking, too.

He mixed my order up with someone else's and when she brought it back he tried to hand that manhandled sandwich to me. Insert the stankest of cramps-induced side eyes here. After all was said and done, I had been waiting nearly 30minutes for a simple sandwich that I hope and pray he didn't rub on his ass crack or spit in.

It was now 10:30am and I was late for creative review. This was how my day began.

But as I'm typing up this crazy-yet-docile diatribe for all of you to have a good laugh at the Jaded NYer with sticky hands and a distinct banana smell, the sun is shining through my office window and I have a lunch date with Irene and my babies.

What's a little spilled shake when you're alive and employed and loved?

*smooches...looking at the silver lining*
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of course I would not be this chipper if my USB drive had not survived the ordeal. nosireeBOB; this would be an entirely different post, for sure.