Yesterday I wrote about how if I were to write a book about my life up until this point it would be called “Never Been Loved”. Well let’s pretend that book became a New York Times Best Seller - and I was approached to make a film on it. This morning…would have been the opening montage to Never Been Loved.
This morning, I woke up feeling great. My hair (due to the humidity) had this cute relaxed curl, my make up looked great…and my outfit looked adorable. That’s where my good morning ended.
Upon leaving my apartment - I kicked a pigeon. Now this is quite often a weekly occurance. Anyone who lives in a big city knows that pigeons have a cocky attitude. They are so used to humans that often…instead of them getting out of your way - you have to get out of theirs. They fly low, because they are so used to humans ducking for them. So, about once a week…I awkwardly end up kicking a pigeon.
“Hey! Lady! I’m walkin’ here!” is what I imagine them saying. In a heavy New Jersey accent.
I’m then standing at a cross walk, next to a guy…which I can only describe using my inner dialogue.
“Look at this guy. He looks like if Pauly D…no…Ronnie. He looks like if Ronnie and a carrot made babies. Why is he so orange? Does he thinks he looks good? He actually looks like a carrot. Not just in colour - but actually, his physique looks like a carrot. All big in his upper body and teeny tiny little butt and legs. Ew.”
Not long after my charming little banter with myself did he turn around to face me.
Did he just call me sugar?
“You work here? I haven’t seen you around cupcake.”
AND THEN…my shoe breaks. The strap on my favourite matte black wedge heals that I just bought a few weeks ago - breaks.
This has just been my walk to work. It’s been a good morning. Sigh.