Everything that could possibly have gone wrong today went wrong; but I didn’t cry once! Go me! I am a total rockstar!

Okay, so I did whine a little. Just a little! Don’t get me wrong. I am no fragile flower, but you’d think that while waiting for my uterine lining to escape (now that’s a happy thought, eh?) during the most stressful time of the year, I’d react more strongly to today’s events.

It is early morning, I am flailing about in the cardio class with the simplest Richard Simmons-style choreography. I cannot push myself like usual. Even the instructor calls me on it while I leadfoot my way through a lunge sequence.

“Girl in the pink top who usually wears a headband, you need to work harder.”

I replaced my weekend workouts at the gym with walks with my man but my body cannot have already weakened so much since Friday morning. Bleh.

After taking a shower, I sneak in a chunk of “The Time Traveler’s Wife.” Obviously the story is compelling enough to keep me from reading something for school, but somehow I manage to crawl back into bed for a snooze—buck naked and barely dried off. Apparently my body didn’t get the memo about the energizing qualities of a morning workout and shower.

As morning becomes afternoon, I force myself up and get dressed in the cute outfit that I chose the night before. Anyone who is plagued by vanity, body image issues and a love for fashion understands how painful simply getting dressed can be especially on days when you’re retaining water. Even though my hair is a damp mess from my post-shower nap, I feel fly (and only a wee bit too busty.)

Discouraged by my wasted morning, but full of renewed resolve to face the day, I get my bag ready for school and head down to the kitchen where my mother has left dumplings sizzling in a covered pan.

Since they are being fried and not steamed, I automatically assume that the dumplings are sheng jian bao (生煎包) and not xiao long bao (小籠包). Big mistake. As my mother walks into the kitchen to check on the meal, I decide to add more oil as the dumplings are don’t look robust enough and could use a bit of crispiness on the bottom. I pour a small amount of oil into the pan only to stumble as I reach to put the oil container away. SPLASH! Oil all down the front of my top and pants. I curse loudly. GLUB, GLUB, GLUB. More vegetable oil soaking the rug. My mother and I stand frozen for a second.

My mother bends down calmly and picks up the oil container and passes me a paper towel to try to soak up the mess on my clothes. I feel oil on my belly. She tells me that even though she decided to pan fry them, the dumplings weren’t meant to be crispy. She’s just experimenting. She says not to worry about lunch or my clothes as she will take care of both. I ignore the latter comment and trudge up the stairs head hanging low. I strip and throw my soiled ensemble into the sink and scrub.

Amazingly, I am able to get dressed quickly though I am deeply annoyed that I have to wear yesterday’s jeans to make today’s impromptu look work. Whatever. I don’t care if anyone notices.

My mother tosses the rug into the garbage. Paper towels cover the empty, oily spot of tile instead. We eat lunch together and chat about current events and such. I gulp my hot milk tea hastily, thinking that the caffeine will save me from more mishaps. Still not satisfied, I get up and make coffee for the road. Dave calls and just before I can get into all the details of the oil spill, the line goes dead. Drat. I call him back and while soaking in his comforting voice of reason, I scald my hand. Lovely.

On the drive to school, I almost kill a robin that recklessly flies into the road. Every single lane change I make is a bad choice.

I get to my clinic shift on time but have to pee. I ignore the urge because I am often late for my shift and this is the last shift of the year. I don’t want to abandon my co-duty counsel. I spend time doing some preliminary screening with a client with a heartbreaking story only to learn that all we can do for him is to refer him to other similary resource-strapped places. I think that he will fall through the system and possibly bring down his wife and kid.

At various times during the day I have difficulty opening and closing my locker.

The sun glares on my screen in the library. Even the natural light manages to be a negative thing. I look outside to try to find a better spot to sit and see that it is snowing. The strong wind blows the snow horizontally. So much for spring.

After administrative law class, I stand around and chat with friends for a few minutes. After bidding farewell to them, I head down to the washroom. As I take my bag off the stall hook, I realize that the bottom is wet. Panic sets in. My computer! I race out of the stall and quickly extract my laptop out of my bag. The protective case is wet on one side. Please God, no! I frantically unzip, wipe and open. It seems that I had a lucky save.

Paper towel, paper towel, paper towel. Everything is dry or swathed in brown paper towel. I re-seal my Nalgene, which had been clumsily placed into the bag horizontally without being screwed tight. I silently curse myself. Again.

There is more, but I will do myself a favour and get to work before the next disaster involves me wasting a good school night fit for work by cooking, catching bits of American Idol with the parents, eating chocolate and blogging. Sigh.

Thank you to my faithful commenters! I love you! I am not just saying that because I am a sad critter who needs external validation. You people are keeping me sane. Seriously, if it weren’t for you, I would have totally finished off that chocolate bar instead of just gorging on 3/4 of it. 😛

As for the comments on my ridiculous reactions to the library heathen, fear not for my health. I can handle it. I’ve got earplugs and all that jazz, but I don’t feel like I should have to jam fluorescent foam into my ears in a place that is supposed to be silent. The studious go to the library for silence. I may not be as studious as many of my hardcore overachieving peers, but I know when to join the pack: crunch time.

Still, I don’t want you to get the impression that I’m a crazy woman who needs a handful of chill pills. I, too, have whispered in the library before; but I am conscious of how much it irks my neighbours so try to avoid doing so especially during the pre-exam rush. I just don’t get how these over-educated “intelligent” people have a hard time grasping basic scholarly etiquette.

And Akio darling, we have a deal. No studying together. Ever. Unless that includes studying the people passing us by at a cute little café. Let’s shop to work up an appetite and then go eat delicious food at a fabulous restaurant. Then we will shop again to burn those calories off. Okay?

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 4th, 2006 at 7:46 pm and is filed under Academentia, Emo-ed Out, The Sacred and Mundane.
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