This episode in my life is dedicated to those who like to laugh at other people’s misfortunes.
Before I start lets get some background info… just so this story will have depth and the level of empathy will be considerably higher in my favor.
Over the last few months I’ve been working rather hard and plugging away at many of the different areas in my life. Having started two new jobs in the last term, finished the production of Love Is, fighting the never ending battle of grot, grim, germs and filth that reside in my house, trying to remove the dam of emotions that is blocking my supposed to be healthy emotional river, falling prey to an unknown disease that has infiltrated my body and blood stream, losing severely the battle of man power v. washing as well as losing Thomas to cancer only on Sunday have all contributed to a general feeling of lethargy, lost, purposeless, monotonal, flattened mood, energy less, exhaustion and yes, just feelings of being somewhat lost.
So all of the above have built up over the last few weeks without me really realizing it. On Friday my friend very wisely said to me that I should find some time for myself this week. So I thought to myself, “Yes. That is a grand idea.” I met with my family to work out when I could get the car to be able to escape. I was hoping for a day so I could go up the central coast and welcome spring, but the car could only be spared for an afternoon so I grabbed the opportunity and ran with it.
This brings us now to this morning and the beginning of our episode.
My adventure started at 12. My plan was to go to Balmoral, then head over to neutral bay for a massage before making my way to Chatswood where I would purchase a pair of pants and top. Indeed I headed down to Balmoral. I arrived safely and parked the boat (van) before going to a local café. Once there I chose to have a pineapple juice to go. I waited a moment, thought to myself, “how lovely it is today. I’m as free as a bird and I get to have a yummy juice.” I looked over the counter and thought again, “how lovely, they’re juicing it fresh.” I get my juice and walk outside. After maneuvering around the chairs and tables with extreme caution as not to trip and thus ruin my juice, I brought the straw to my mouth where I sucked in the yellow, orange, slightly pink looking liquid. I held it there… paused… reluctantly swallowed…(wasn’t going to spit it out in the middle of Mosman.)… Gracefully walked past the bin… pulled a rotten face to match the unripe juice… and dropped the cup silently into the bin. One swift, purposeful movement. It took no more the 8 steps to reach the next café where, still frustrated about wasting $4 on something that belongs in the trash, I bought a safe cappuccino.
I found a spot along the beach to sit and stare thoughtfully out to the ocean. It was beautiful and I was happy to be there, but the only meaningful thought running through my mind was how I meant to go back to the car because it’s cold and windy, and while that’s lovely if you have a parker or even a sweatshirt… I had neither. With half an hour to go before I was due at “Destiny massage,” I decided to stick out the cold and finish my coffee. Again, I brought the cup to my mouth, this time with the intent of sucking in the froth. Not only did the light sweet milk fill my mouth but so did the scolding coffee.
What I struggle to work out is that it always seems to take a couple of seconds for your brain to realize the severity of the high temperature, another second to toss up the spit out v. swallow strategy, then the next two or three days living with the constant reminder of your pledge to never touch a drink that hasn’t either come from the tap or the fridge.
At the right time I left Balmoral and head up to Neutral Bay. After struggling for 10mins to find a park in the immediate vicinity I opted for paid parking a block away. I parked, locked and left the car. I went to the parking meter, paid for my number 9 car park. Not only did I pay for my hour, I also added an extra 12 mins on just incase I ran a little late or the parking inspector (who has a thing for booking cars along that street) comes just after the meter runs out. Satisfied I had met all the law requirements I confidently left my boat and went in to get my, massage. It was amazing. I felt gooey everywhere. It cost me $75, which is a little expensive but expected for the area.
An hour later I walked out very soft, relaxed, a little oily and smelling great! As I rounded the corner to where I had parked, I saw I white piece of paper under my wind-screen-wipers. As I got closer I thought it was just a flier because there was absolutely no way I got a ticket. It was just impossible because I had paid for the extra 12 minutes. I reached out and pulled the PARKING TICKET!!! from the windshield. I read it. Re-read it. Thought. Read it again. Possibly scratch my head as that it was people seem to do when they think. Walked over to the meter and pressed nine. Sure enough it still had 6:22 left till it expired. As I walked back to the car I looked at the ground. On top of my nine there was a big yellow line. Next to it there was something written. I walk over and get down on the ground… SIX, IT’S A SIX! I ran to the number nine. It said nine with a line as well. The car in nine was sitting there looking rather smug. I wanted to break it but I decided that while a can afford the $75 fine, there would be no way I would ever be able to afford a massage again if I broke the number nine car. Not only that but if I did choose to break and run then I would wreck all the effects of my massage. I calmly got into my car and drove away. So not only did I get fined, I also couldn’t go shopping. That $75 was for my day. It was for me. I had set it aside so I could spoil myself, so that I could indulge. But not anymore.
My day. The day I had given me, really flopped. So now I sit here, not too fussed, just disappointed that I couldn’t do a day or even just 3 hours by myself.
Funnily enough… as I was stopped by the spit bridge I heard myself singing, “how great is our god!… the world will see how great is our God!”
And as I walked into my house I was reminded of my funny friend James who told me last night, “whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy.”
So here I am, celebrating with you… that I had a bad day!
I do believe there's a song about that... :)
Posted by: matt at September 28, 2005 09:04 AMyeah, i wonder if he had a day that is in the same catagory to mine when he wrote that lovely melody