As if getting out of bed on a Monday morning is difficult enough, try doing it on just about the worst nights sleep ever. I know what you’re probably thinking…somebody did some drinking on Sunday. Sunday-Funday was the term that you’re probably thinking. However quite the opposite, I was quite good and was in bed at a decent time last night. Getting to bed was not the problem, in fact it was getting to sleep that seemed to be impossible last night…
I had Monday marked as a big day in my weekly, hell, monthly calendar. I was to speak with my boss after months of dragging her feet through mud about my raise and title. This “big talk,” this meeting was the reason for my tossing and turning. I’m very comfortable with my new job, (I know what you’re thinking you’re currently in your new job but you haven’t talked title or money) I’m confident in my skills and present those skills so why in the hell have I flipped from my right side to my left side 463 times since midnight?
Not only was there the pressure of an early meeting, there was the actual pressure of falling asleep in a timely manner. As it stands I received an ihomes alarm clock for Christmas I’ve been using since, around the 26th or so. It has this great function called the “sleep” function. For those who have never had a TV that was built after 1995 in their bedroom, it allows you to set a timer to shut itself off. I decided to give this a whirl. Thirty minutes, that’s all I need right? All of the sudden I found myself wondering how much time had gone by…two minutes, ten minutes? I had no idea. And in fear of becoming less asleep I was not going to prop open and eyeball that deviously white shinny machine! As I’m sure you expected I was in fact awake when the music stopped. It was like a depressing highly un-athletic game of musical chairs, “where the music stops nobody knows.”
To no surprise of mine morning came quickly. I hit snooze once, and actually thought that action was the perfect play as I heard one of my two roommates get in the shower. Just another 9 minutes (apparently the folks of Apple can’t count to ten) of sleep, then it was up and about. It was after those measly nine minutes I met my roommate has he walked out of what appeared to be a steam room, only to say “there’s no hot water.” Looking back, I guess the right thing for him to say would have been “there’s no more hot water.”
Surprisingly I actually used this spear time, waiting for some hot water to some how be created (as if giving the boiler a ten minute rest was going to resonate gallons of piping hot water) to find out what “power” shirt I was going to wear for my big day. After all, it was just that, it was the day I was going to tell or suggest just how much I’m worth. (In dollars that is) I opted for my favorite black slacks, comfortable, stylish but not too much of either to wipe the other out. As for my shirt, it was a sleeper. One from the back of the closet I pulled from the wreckage. A strong, perfectly fitting sky blue with white lines going vertical and horizontal, a sure winner. What’s funny about this shirt is it’s from H&M and cost very little as compared to the others accompanying it in the wreckage. For those non New Yorkers H&M is like a Gap meets Gucci at Old Navy Prices. The stuff looks great for one wear, and no one ever admits it’s from H&M.
As for the shower it was cold and quite quick. Just enough lather to get the bed bugs off. As for the shave it was hot, because I had to do it in the kitchen with a pot of nearly boiling water. That’s right, me in the kitchen, my fogless mirror in hand trying to make sure I didn’t miss that spot on my right cheek bone I always seem to skip. Only in New York can you pay an arm, a leg, and usually a pint or two of blood as a security deposit for a decent and I mean just decent apartment, would something like this happen. But I’m a New Yorker baby, I did it, I made it work and I went on with my Monday. As for the meeting with my boss? It went well, but you probably figured that right? It was the sky blue shirt…
Thanks for listening