Practice makes perfect.

The last few days have been a little bitter sweet. I'm back from my near death experience, which is good. I promised myself if I rested until Sunday night, I could go to my ultimate game on Monday, and rest I did. So, Monday night came and I was incredibly excited to play. I was there early to warm up, since it felt like forever since I'd played. But, apparently one of the remaining effects of my cold was either blindness or poor reaction time, I'm not really sure which, all I know is that I caught a disc right in the eye. It was a beautiful throw, if only I'd seen it on time to catch it, or at least to bob a bit.

Later it turned out that maybe the universe really wanted to connect my head with hard plastic flying objects, because another frisbee ricocheted off the top of my head, right into the hands of my team mate in the N-zone. That was actually pretty sweet. I knew at some point my erratic running in circles would pay off somehow. I got many high fives.

Anyways, I woke up today hoping that I wouldn't have a black eye. I was actually quite worried that the frisbee in the eye was the universes way of teaching me not to be too cocky, since I had commented that morning on the fact that most days it really doesn't make a difference whether I wear makeup or not, cause I'm just that gorgeous. Not only would a black eye force me to wear makeup, it would ensure that the entire process of applying it would be as painful as possible. Touche universe (I know I should accent that touche, but I've never really figured out how to do that...I should probably ask friends with accents in their names, since they probably have figured it out by now). But, to my surprise, I woke up with my eye still tender to the touch, but with no visible signs of bruising.

I suspect that despite being a ginger, I'm somehow immune to bruising. Maybe I just don't have enough blood. Or maybe it is also ginger and thus blends in with my skin. I'm not really sure about the physiology of this condition.

Regardless, I was pretty excited, and thought maybe things were going my way. No bruising, and I was going to finally start biking to work again after a week of walking/subwaying. My excitement must have distracted me from noticing the sky opening up to drench the city, because I ended up completely soaked less than a minute into the trip. Somehow I made it to work on time, changed and dry, with the squelching of my shoes the only sign of exactly how miserable I felt. Then, I learned that I would need to stay late and somehow figure out how to close the store. I clarified a few times that the main thing I needed to do for this whole closing thing was to ensure we weren't robbed blind or set on fire. I like to set small, acheivable goals, which is good, because at some point in my 10 hour shift, I became quite hypoglycemic and my brain shut off. Still, somehow eventually I managed to get the gate to lock and escape into the night.

But Melvina (my bike) was still waiting for me, and my hypoglycemic brain couldn't work my theft proof bike lock. And, in trying to open it without fully inserting the key, I managed to bend the key until it was unusable once I finally realized what I was doing wrong. I called my roommate Byla, desperate, and she offered to bring my spare-key on the subway, which probably saved my life, because the hypoglycemia was really starting to mess with my brain. While waiting for her, I realized that I had a bag of celery in my bag, which probably wouldn't help the blood sugar, but would amuse me for a spell. So, I sat on the wet ground beside my bike, eating celery and singing showtunes to stop me from crying while I waited for the most wonderful roommate in the world to rescue my bike. No one even looked at me twice. People are weird. I would have looked twice and then probably comment on how weird people are that aren't me.

Eventually my spell in purgatory ended, and I made it home. Actually, I made it before Byla, because there were subway delays. I love Byla, because she didn't kick my ass, even though she would have been in the right. This fact made me realize that although it seems like I'm going through a bad time, maybe it's not so bad, because it's when you have a really really shitty day and you're totally hypoglycemic and can barely see straight that you realize what kind of friends you have in your life. I realized I have good ones. Some people realize other things on days like that, and that is a real bad day. Mine was just a chance to practice being stoic. Next time I'll try to do it without singing Close Every Door from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. But I can't promise anything.