|If you can’t take the heat, get out of the way.|
It was one of those days. I overslept. I missed my train. I stood on the platform and hoped for summerwhile the leaves forgot green. I forgotmy breakfast bar. I travelled to Eustonto catch a different train and was scolded for having the wrong ticket. I paid the difference (same destination, no?)and rushed upstream, past the elbows and man-bags, to make my new train.
People were everywhere and, on one of those days, they allseemed to point their annoying DNA right at me. I felt bad. It wasn’t their faultthey were so annoying. I was annoyed byeveryone. I probably annoyed a few, too,though and that eased my conscious just a bit. I climbed down the stairs towards the crowded tunnel that would lead meto my platform. The stairs came alive asI walked against the grain. I am nomodern man, I thought. Souls tappedalternate steps like a tramped collection of muted claps. Gloves and scarves were out, or in, and I was happy Iforgot mine. It was hot down there,probably 80-85. How is itpossible to walk uphill down stairs?
I made my train and picked up a strangers newspaper from myseat. Whose hands smeared the ink on thesecond page? Lost in thought, coffee soakedinto the back page stained my pants. It lookedliked I peed ink. Maybe I really amsupposed to be a writer? I wanted togive up and go home. It wasn’t even 8 AM. I must go on, I thought. Everyone is tested. I must suffer, because it wasn’t going tochange.
Truth be told, my day didn’t veer from that path. I bombed a presentation. I missed the deadline to submit myexpenses. I forgot to eat lunch. I didn’t make it to the gym. I finished my last call at 9:30. There was no way out. I just took one defeat at a time and hoped itwasn’t as bad as I thought. Self-fulfilledbad day? Perhaps (hey, at least I didsomething right).
I’m now two days outfrom that day. Second truth be told, mymood and view hasn’t righted just yet. Things are much better, though, and that day wasn’t as disastrous as Ihad thought. They let me submit myexpenses a day late. I didn’t pee inkthe next day (talk about writing your name in the snow…).
What happened to methat day? I had no substance. No control.
It is all aboutflow. Go with the flow, I wanted to tellmyself that day. Problem was I couldn’tidentify the flow let alone join it. Iwondered into the unknown. I wasexhausted (10 weeks of travel out of 12 will do that to you). The flow annoyed me. I needed a break. I need a break. The flow will go on. And once I am rested, the man-bags and elbowswill point somewhere else. I won’t beannoyed with every Londoner, because let’s face it: that just has to be thedissent of man.