you'll never find it if you are looking for it

this morning there is nothing else i'd rather do than slip out of my clothes and feel cool skin against just washed cotton sheets. i turn on the heat to prepare for the sauna, but instead i pull on a red sweater, striped shirt and my favorite jeans and walk out the door. i can make it through one class, then i have the rest of the afternoon to just lie there staring at the ceiling thinking about re-reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but instead close my eyes and cuddle with an invisible boyofmydreams.

i'm out the door especially early so it calls for a celebration. a bagel. a bagel with cream cheese. so now i have one white bag full of perfectly toasted crusty bagel with melting cream cheese and i'm licking the cheese off the top out of the nooks of bread and i'm humming songs in my head. i'm cold because the wind was stronger than i thought, but i shrug it off and take the long leisurely stroll to class.

i cut through the public garden like i do everyday and walk on the grass before hitting my first obstacle -- a foot high metal fence held together by dangling chains. i've stepped, jumped, skipped over this in the past, but today my toes snag across the chain awkwardly and i'm falling. while i'm falling, i think:

you are falling. did anyone see that? did i rip a hole in my jeans? the bagel, dear god is the bagel okay?

i look up, no one's there. i exhale. my knees are muddy and my hand is bleeding, but no holes. i feel a bit shaken and i keep looking around to make sure no tourist has me on video. i can see the tape name now in lights, "stupid bostian falls over foot high fence." i'm on the internet and i'm the next star wars kid. this could be good publicity but i'm not sure if i'm ready for it yet.

something in me knows that is not going to be a good day, and i fight every urge of turning back. there is a close encounter with a bike messenger who nearly mows me down, but he sees me at the last second. i exhale. good job. i fight through a gang, swarm, mass of people waiting for the new musical. must get tickets. they have been there since 6am waiting for the Lion King. really, it's not that great folks. turn back now.

class goes and goes and goes and it's over and all i can think about is going to sleep. i don't fall once on the way back home, but i see the neck of a corona bottle in the shallow end of the Duck Pond. i can't quite reach it, but i hate to think that the ducks have to swim in filth because some bum couldn't recycle. couldn't trash his alcoholic addiction. don't make the animals suffer, please.

this makes me think of last night's conversation with my mom, "if you could be any animal, what would you be?" i blurt out, "a duck." i feel stupid, so i follow with, "er...or cat." i picture her nodding and then she resumes her thoughts on the emerson college financial situation. i cringe. (squinting cauces crows feet -- that's okay, i don't mind being an unattractive 35 year old.)

i wake up after 6 hours of napping with the hugest craving for pizza. on the way back from the parlor, i trip twice.  
¶ 11:43 PM |