So… here I am, beginning my first blog… it’s about time, I’m told. Sadly, all I have for you is the confession of a bumbling day. But honesty truly is the best policy, I believe, and something I highly value… so here you go.
My day started off with over-sleeping. Or more accurately, not sleeping the night before. Tossing and twisting through the wee hours of the morn… which left me finally falling asleep about 4:30am… and not waking until nearly 10:00am. Alas, even Tylenol PM has failed me.
So, groggy and bleary-eyed, I staggered to the coffee pot… tossed a few of my favorite Ethiopian beans into the grinder and stood swaying, eyes-closed, listening to the soothing, gravely sounds of my faithful Braun buddy. Startled back awake at the sound of silence (the cue that my beans are now transformed into 2 scoops of perfect, flaky goodness)… I dumped the fresh grounds into my recycled filter (I’m trying to be green) and with one swift move, swung the filter basket shut, hit the red “perk” button and shuffled to the bathroom.
Continuing my morning ritual… I “used the facilities”, brushed my teeth, flossed, found my fuzzy green slippers and padded back down the hallway toward the African-blended aroma. As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, I heard a sound unfamiliar to normal perking noises. Argh!! Caramel-brown liquid and sticky-black grounds were bubbling up over the filter basket… spilling down the counter, onto the floor – an utter mess. In my late-morning fog… I hadn’t shut the basket completely. “Listen for the click. Listen for click.”
Next feux pas: Once I finally achieved a simple cup of coffee, I sat down to answer some email, reply to my Facebook messages, check the news headlines. Important stuff. Feeling productive, I decided it was high time to touch up the roots. Yes, I am a non-profit girl and I do my own hair. So… poised at the bathroom sink, rubber gloves donned… I went to work. 15 minutes later and… voila! Every strand was evenly covered… now it just needs another 20 minutesto bake.
Hmmm… what was that? Another sound… from the living room this time. It’s just my Blackberry. Vibrating, scooting haphazardly across the table. It’s a Director from my work. Not bad news, per se. Just awkward. Like, Awkward Turtle, awkward. Apparently, I’d replied to a friend’s post on my “Super Wall” (*#@! Facebook) and mentioned, quite prematurely and completely unintentionally, some information about my position changing with World Vision. It’s not official, and much conversation and red tape is yet to be had. But in my fog, I did not just casually and innocently mention it to my friend Melissa in San Jose. No, I sent it to all 321 of my Facebook Friends. Which included said Director. “Undo! Undo!” No, there’s no “undo” button on Super Walls. **SideBar: When did I start using words like FaceBook Friends, Super Wall, Awkward Turtle, and Blackberry for that matter?
Back to the subject at hand: After several failed attempts to technically “undo” my International Feux Pas… then calling a few appropriate people to verbally “undo” my morning’s productivity… I decided to give up, beg for grace and let the cards fall where they may.
So, now… what was I doing before Michael called? Um…lets see… MY HAIR!!!! “Holy Carp!!!” I quickly looked at the clock. 50 minutes. 5-0. Twice the cooking time needed to “touch up” my unnaturally auburn locks. I flew to the shower. Scrubbed and scrubbed. But here I am. Reminiscent of Lucille Ball. Sans the French knotted-bun and swishy 40’s skirt. But nonetheless, Lucy in all her glory.
After spending way too much time trying to make my hair bearable… I decided to putter around in the kitchen. Cooking, especially experimental cooking, is great therapy for me. My friend Clay says that mine is more laboratory than kitchen. I’m having a few girls over tomorrow night so I thought I’d concoct a little sumpin-sumpin for them. Perfect! My home grown red jalapeños. I grew these little babies from seeds and I’ve been dying to use them. They will make a great salsa!
I sliced and diced and blended – a dash of this, a dash of that… wow, my eyes are really starting to water. Big sneeze cominnnngggg… I quickly covered my mouth with my hand. Yikes! Now my lips are on fire. My nose is running… eyes pouring. Apparently, I bought seeds for the highly flammable version of Mexican chilies.
An hour later, my nose was still bothering me. Twitching, itching… I could stand it no longer. And here’s the TMI part… yes… I put my finger inside my nose to try a relieve a little itch. Immediately, flames filled my nostril passages! Even several hand-scubbings later… the Diablo Rojo potentency remains on my fingers. I have since, accidentally, touched my lips and eyes several times… bringing an instant fire and flood of tears. Curse the Diablo Rojo.
After all the fiasco of the day – I thought I’d sit down with a nice glass of red and watch one of my few favs, The Biggest Loser (don’t judge). Wouldn’t you know it? They voted off my favorite couple – Curtis and Mallory. They were so fun. More tears… so I wiped my eyes…
Perhaps I’m channeling Lucy after all.
Thanks for listening. I won’t be as lengthy next time. Honest…