to the bottom of the exhalation

Morning, chickadees!

This is another fast moving morning, likely because I insisted on sleeping in right until seven.

Which generally, my friends, is not a big deal, except that sometimes I forget.

I forget that a morning full of twisting open jar lids is basically my new worst nightmare.

In high school, I had a friend whose mom could never twist open water bottles.

I thought this was lame, obviously.

I thought most things were lame at sixteen.

However, I would like to lob a giant I-am-so-sorry in her direction, since Saturday night I found myself handing over my iced tea bottle to sweet, 15-year old Aus who twisted it open and handed it right back to me without even a second thought.

“Where does it hurt the most?” he asked, looking concerned.

That kid is better on his worst day then I ever was at my best when I was fifteen.

In any case, this was not meant to be a pity party since, chickadees, in the end, I wrenched open the necessary lids this morning.

I’m just running a little late as a result.

I might also be kind of sweaty.

And I may have somehow cut myself during this whole endeavor.

It was sort of a battle situation.

However, I’ve got this to look forward to on my ride into work:


Take that, immune system.

Up today: getting back into it, listening to good music, heading to yoga, and crossing all my fingers and toes for something exciting happening over in my corner of the Second City.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, chicks!



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Filed under Chicago, Did I really do that?, Near Disaster

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