Where are you Pema Chodron?

A little background to this story:

One of the requirements for being on a journal at Law School is taking a class on scholarly writing. It only meets a few times over the course of the year, but on those occasions, it meets at 7:45 am. That’s right – A.M. Today was one of those mornings. It sucks no matter what. However, in addition to having this class, I had to go to work at my internship and then to a fall recruiting interview and then take a cab to the airport to fly to San Francisco for a conference. So I left my apartment this morning at 7:15 in a suit and “comfortable” shoes, carrying my purse and a laptop bag and pulling my suitcase behind me. At 7:20 the back of my right heel started to hurt. By the time I got to school, I had blisters on both feet and was oh so cranky. Then we had class. Ok fine. So I leave school at 8:45 and head to the metro. Here begins our story, and by “story” I mean, the thoughts in (I)S Gal’s head.

“Thank God these shoes are flexible enough for me to fold down the heels and still walk in them. Why do I always forget this about these shoes? I should’ve worn socks. Ugh. Hey, don’t honk at me! I’m rolling a suitcase, you jerk! And my feet hurt. What the hell do you want from me? I’m walking as fast as I can. I hate all of you people!”

In the metro station:

“See station manager?? Oh, no money on my SmartTrip card. Ok. Seriously? The SmartTrip system is down? Ok. Buying a farecard. Not a big deal.”

On the train:

“What a stupid day. What a stupid stupid day. I am so tired of dressing up. Does this shirt stink already? I guess it won’t matter if I have a jacket on. Wait a second. I don’t remember the train going outside on my way to work. Wait a…am I on the blue line? Oh holy shit I’m on the blue line. Good grief (I)S Gal, what is wrong with you? Ugh. Ok. I’ll just get off at the next stop and turn around and get on the orange line.”

At the next stop:

“Oh sweet! I’m just in time for the train going the other way. Go go go! Move people. Cranky gal with a suitcase coming through. Thank goodness something is going right today.”

On the train:

“Ok. Breath. Relax. I’m going to get off the train in a second and walk to work and just focus on that and then…wait a second. We’re outside. Oh my god. Am I on the blue line train AGAIN??? Holy lord girl – what is your problem?! Unbelievable. Truly. It is not enough that I am carrying around 50 pounds of crap with this blasted suitcase and a laptop case and a purse and a suit jacket, but I am now… Where’s my suit jacket? WHERE IS MY SUIT JACKET???? Oh you are kidding me. You are seriously kidding me. I love this suit! I have an interview! I’m flying out to a conference where I have to wear this suit!! AAAAAAH!!!!! I think I’m going to have a heart attack. Ok. I’m going to get off the train again and turn around again and go to work and put down my stuff and what? Call Metro I guess. What do you do when you leave something on a train? Never see it again probably. Ugh. What a stupid, stupid day.”

Riding up the escalator at the station:

“Stupid, stupid, stupid. What is that? What is that? That – right there. Lying on the ground. It looks like a…could it be? I can’t tell - why am I pulling this stupid suitcase?? Oh please… It is! IT’S MY JACKET!!!! Oh glory hallelujah. Hi stranger! Hi there! Yes, I am smiling like a lunatic! HI! This is my jacket! Lying on the ground! I’ve completely lost my mind!”

So, I finally arrived at work. I am now in possession of my jacket, have tough-strip bandaids on both of my heels, and have purchased the People magazine with Ellen and Portia’s wedding in it to make myself feel better. It just might work. That is, if I can make it to my interview and to the airport without…I’m not even going to say it. Fingers crossed.