I’m growing to like these Tuesday mornings. It’s a sacrifice to get up at 5:00am- technically 4:45am (I am neurotic)- and begin the day. You know how I began today? By discovering 4 little repulsive, struggling fleas stuck in the wooly cotton of my socks. The mystery of my crimson ankles is solved. Disgusting.
But onto better things. I’m sitting in the (upper) Queen Anne Starbucks reading short stories before class. I ate a reduced-fat turkey bacon sandwich and am sipping a drip coffee. I watch the better half of Seattle amble inside and stand patiently in line. Some of the women bitterly eye the pastries. Some of the more awkward individuals stare at the menu and scan- toffee mocha, pumpkin spice latte, Pike Place roast, bold pick of the day, caffe misto– although they get their “regular” like they have for three years now.
Some people have unusual pep and vigor for 7:00am. They’re made wrong. Whose clock sets sunrise as prime? There are groups of men here laughing boisterously, from their gut, as if they’ve been in a pub downing beer for the last few hours. But then there are those who are normal, noiselessly reading their papers and sipping their lattes. Having just gone to the dentist, I think to myself, “The sipping is causing corrosion in their molars.”
I like sitting in front of the window and watching night turn to day. The sky is the same color as the shirt I’m wearing today: grayish powder blue. The volume of vehicles on the road increases as people begin the day. We all share this one day, and yet there are hundreds of millions of days occurring simultaneously. Hundreds of millions of individual insecurities, problems, worries. There will be hundreds of millions of new jokes created, new loves formulated, new friends made. This is everyday, and yet it is so unbelievable. The mass of existence is great.
I was looking at photographs of my travels last night. This past trip had fused with the school year so quickly that I didn’t get the chance to process it. I was looking at my pictures, thinking to myself, “I have seen so many great things.” The experiences are so palpable, and yet so distant and dreamlike. I surveyed photos of Tyler and I standing in Versailles, in Sanssouci Park, on the “prideland” of the Masai Mara, in the countryside of Tallo near Barcelona… And I thought back to my times in Managua, in the orphanage, and in Alaska performing puppet shows for Native American children with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. When I think, as I so often do, that my life is inconsequential and that I don’t have stories to tell, I’ll set my mind straight. It’s strange how these spectacular events get buried in the folds of my present insecurities and troubles.
It’s raining outside now. Please enjoy the weather today 🙂 I know I will.
P.S. Hamlet was awesome.
Natalie's Blog. 