Today did not get off to a smooth start.
I tripped on my quilt and slid on the plank floor of my bedroom when I was getting out of bed, waving my arms around crazily and eventually stopping myself from falling.
I found out that in addition to the snow on the ground, there was black ice under it, and, thus, mother insisted she drive me to work. (I’ve only been a licensed driver since August, and haven’t driven on ice under snow yet.) Furthermore, she decided we needed to wait on the salt truck/snow plow to come around before we left.
I ever-so-slightly poked myself in the eye with my eyeliner pencil while getting ready for work, and had a monster of a time trying to cover the now-scale-model of Black Mountain on my chin, formerly a scale model of Jupiter. I have said HUGE blemish on my chin!
I tripped over my flat, fuzzy winter boots just after I put them on.
I nearly hung myself with my hand-knit scarf when it got hung someplace I still haven’t figured out, as it came un-hung when I backed up and turned around, after being yanked backwards by my own momentum.
By this time, I was running late and Mom was already in the car. So I carefully hurried out, wrestled with the front door which is a pain in the rear to close thanks to this little contraption Dad has put on the bottom to keep the draft out. Just as Mom turned onto the bridge leading out of our neighborhood, I realized I’d forgotten my keys, and so wouldn’t be able to get into the office. (I open.) We had to go on and find a place to turn around, which was approximately 1/3 of the way to where I needed to be. If I’d been driving, I wouldn’t have forgotten my keys, as I couldn’t even get out of the driveway without them!
I finally got to work, thankfully only 10 minutes late.
Things seemed to level out for me then. Good.
That is until I started eating lunch, when a bean escaped my Southwest Turkey Kashi Pocket Bread Sandwich, and rolled tomato sauce down the front of my baby pink sweater and onto my sand-colored corduroy pants. Thankfully, I was able to–as odd as it may sound–suck most of it off the sweater while it was fresh, and brush most of it off my pants after I let it dry a bit.
It’s been one of those days. The ones that would normally make me want to crawl up under my desk and hide until the day was over, or, otherwise, wish I’d never even gotten out of bed.
Today, though, I laughed instead. If I had watched all this happen to some anonymous character on TV or in a movie, I’d be laughing, so why not laugh at myself?
“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.” — Robert Louis Stevenson
I suppose that means I’ve planted seeds that will make it possible for me to laugh at myself, and seeds of laughter are a very good thing!