Thursday, April 28, 2011

What a difference an hour makes

5.15 pm: finished my warm-up, stretching before a 5 km tempo run. This woman wanders by, does a triple take, and finally says: "Jessica, is that you?". She looked so happy and excited that I actually felt guilty about disappointing her. Without thinking, I blurted out: "No, I'm sorry. I'm not her." Yup. Literally apologizing for being myself and not someone else (you know you might be an over-apologizer when...)

6.15 pm: Endless series of chores with la cocotte. Foolishly decided not to bring the stroller. Carrying 24 pounds of sheer squirm around in my aching arms on very tired legs. Dehydrated (me). Hungry (la cocotte). Smelly (me and la cocotte). I dropped off a perscription at the pharmacy and went to the post office while they were filling it. The guy in front me was doing the most complicated transaction ever that seemed to involve sending something requiring a lot of paperwork to Ghana. Got back to the pharmacy. The line that had formed to drop off perscriptions had now moved to the other end for prescription pick up. Went to grocery store. back to pharmacy. Long line. Went to bank machine. Back to pharmacy. Long line. Went to photo store. Back to pharmacy. Long line. Cocotte now screaming and trying to launch herself from my arms by kicking off my ribs. Tongue stuck to roof of mouth with dehydration. Cannot stand my own stench. CUT THE ENTIRE LINE and asked for my prescription. I don't think I was entitled because I had a baby. I think I was just having an asshole moment. And I did feel guilty as I left (though I am sure everyone was glad to see us go for oh so many reasons).

Yup, from apologizing for being me to cutting in front of 5 people. What a difference 60 minutes (a work-out, a screaming, hungry cocotte with a dirty diaper and dehydration makes).

Here's a happier cocotte:

1 comment:

  1. Ugh, sounds like a rough hour. But I get it - I would much prefer to smother my face in chocolate too. :)