A Glimpse into My Morning

[the below was written early this morning, offline since I had no Internet access]

It’s as if I went somewhere this past week-and-a-half. Now, on my first morning back to the job, I am finding the city as if I’d just spent a long time on another island.

For one, I saw a mouse. My biggest irrational fear is rats—and by extension mice, gerbils, even pigeons, since E calls them flying rats, and little dogs that have faces like rats. Don’t ask me why. (Except I do remember my parents drowning field mice in the sinks when I was little by rubbing the edges with slippery soap, so you would come bleary-eyed into the bathroom or kitchen in the morning to find the dead rodent afloat in the sink. Soon I learned to never be the first to use the bathroom.)

Then, this morning, I dodged thrown food in the street. The food was already thrown—you find this often, discarded rice or vegetables left in the gutter just outside a restaurant. And I have to wonder, why are they throwing food onto the street instead of in the garbage? Are they trying to feed the rats? It’s disgusting. If you cross too quickly in the wrong place, you’ll get a carrot in your shoe.

Then a man followed me into the ATM. Just an ordinary man, it turned out, but I don’t like someone to follow on my heels into the ATM vestibule, especially when it is empty, and especially when the person is a man, and especially when I am holding my ATM card out to shove it again and again into the electronic slot to get the door open.

Two boys had a jealous spat on Christopher Street. They didn’t care that I was walking past, and listening.

The Starbucks where I used to write has been rearranged—and I came in early this morning to get used to my morning writing routine only to find it all, somehow… different. The tables (oops, I almost typed “desks”) were moved away from one of the walls with outlets, and now the napkin stand is there. This loses two entire outlets, room for four laptop plugs, and so makes it that the only desks, um, I mean tables that I can sit in during an early-morning writing session are the ones against the one wall that’s left, six tables in all, which might sound like a lot but this Starbucks gets crowded and those tables aren’t always available.

I am sitting at one of these tables now. I’ve opened another window. I have an idea. I might…

I might start writing it.

3 responses to “A Glimpse into My Morning”

  1. I like your Starbucks routine — and wish you well in getting one of those tables. (And, by the way, “I’ve opened another window” was so good to hear!) best, BL

  2. Hi there:
    I noticed you’ve linked my blog so I came over to see who are you and almost died when I read your mouse story because I had just finished writing this to a friend:

    “I had a mouse in my kitchen yesterday that got caught in one of my husband’s unbelievably stupidly placed glue traps…i.e., right on the kitchen counter. We’ve been having all kinds of critter problems since the house next door was knocked down and is currently being rebuilt. I got so hysterical — even though intellectually I know it’s just a mouse and can’t hurt me — I made him come home from work at lunchtime to take care of it. I was upstairs shaking the entire time.

    It kept squeaking. Oh my god, it was horrible.

    I really did try to take care of it myself. I put on big black plush cotton winter gloves belonging to my son but then I realized pretty quickly that the glue trap would stick to the gloves and I’d probably have died of a stroke or coronary running through the house screaming with that mouse attached to my hand. Then I backed a big trash bucket up the kitchen counter — with my eyes closed, mind you — and figured I’d use a spatula and sweep it real fast into the bag.

    But then I thought– what if I miss? What if while I carry the trash bag out back it falls out?

    Anyway, my husband came home, made fun of me, is still making fun of me, and tomorrow he leaves for Germany for a week and I’m considering taking the dog and staying in a hotel if I see one more bit o’moving mother nature….”

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