The Emerald Girl

casual. classic. curious.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

One of those kind of days

It has seriously just been one of those kind of days. That you wish would just end. As swiftly as possible. At the office - all I wanted to do was come home and cry. I arrived at work when I got the first text that Jack had just thrown up. He is almost two and he has never thrown up ever. He has explosive you know what and later he throws up again. Though I am not home, he is in good spirits and running around with his nanny. Still, I can't stop thinking about him. Work is literally piling up. Crazy how on Monday you can feel like you might get a chance to catch up on stuff and then a few hours later you realize you won't be able to touch that stuff until you finish this new stuff. It is quite disheartening. Mistakes. Late deadlines. It's enough to make it just not fun at all. Period. There is no satisfaction. The office day came to an end. I wait for the bus. I wait and wait and wait. A group of teenagers arrive to wait for a bus. They are arguing loudly. And begin smoking weed. How lovely. Finally the bus arrives. There is a strange electric chemical smell and some people around me are so worried that they get off the bus. A couple stops later, the bus driver announces there are some problems and he has to pull over and wait for help. The only good thing is that he had already driven up the hill, so as I walk home in the rain at least I don't have to go up a steep hill. I quite like the rain anyhow. I don't put my hood on. The rain feels so good pouring down on me. It's real. I wondered if the kids that were fighting might pull out a gun. Once in a criminal class I took in college, I read that the group of people (which I think was like white middle class women aged 25-55 or something) that was statistically least likely to be the victim of a crime actually worry more about being a victim than other groups. I know that's me. It's also one reason I feel it's important to raise Jack in the city. I don't want him to be fearful of the unknown. Growing up in upper middle class suberbs can really kill a persons perspective. The week is more than half way over. Thank you God.

No comments:

Post a Comment