Now THIS is urban living, I thought on my way to work this morning. I left my apartment a little bit later than usual because my "boyfriend"* stopped by last night and I hadn't really bothered to undo all the blue-paper-wrapped goodness, which meant I had to go digging for an outfit from among the three ginormous mounds of freshly washed and folded clothes that were sitting on the desk in my bedroom this morning, which takes more time than I had allotted.
But! The fates, sometimes they like me. Because after I did finally manage to leave my apartment and get to the bus stop, I noted many of the regular riders were waiting at the stop, too. Hooray! I thought. I am more on-time than I gave myself credit for.
So...when I arrived at the BART station, and was reminded that the farmer's market is there today (the clever reminder being that the farmer's market was there), I decided to peruse the selection.
Because I am an urbanite! I am a Californian! I have finally mastered the elements of my commute AND I have a newfound love of healthy foods and see! There are tons of fresh produce to choose from here and I will buy things to eat at work because not only am I a healthy eater, I have managed not to leave my wallet at work two days in a row!
And do you know what I did? I picked out a ruby red grapefruit for breakfast. And then some fresh cheddar cheese for snacking. And some raspberries. And then saw that you could buy a buch of fragrant flowery-planty things (don't know what kind) for TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS and then! Then I put all these things in my cute farmer's market-looking green tote, complete with flowers wrapped in newspaper and LIFE WAS PERFECT!
I trotted on down to the subway just as proud as could be, noting that the sun was already starting to peek from behind the wall of fog as I descended into the station. I passed the place where the crazy man who doesn't know how to play the violin is usually playing the violin, and was intrigued that he'd been replaced today by a banjo player. I thought about how quirky and fun city living can be.
I arrived at the platform just as one train was leaving, but did not fret because, ho ho, I am no longer a stressed-out and rookie commuter. No. I now know that trains come every couple of minutes and do not worry that I will, for some unknown reason, miss them. And sure enough, the next train came right as expected.
I spent the brief ride perusing my newest issue of Gourmet magazine, feeling a small sense of...well, of satisfaction. I may not be the weight I want to be, but for the time being, things are pretty good. I have a cute outfit on. I am a savvy commuter. I have a cute boyfriend whom I can text on my pink phone about my recent farmer's market purchases and who replies encouragingly. I have chic magazine subscriptions.
And I arrived at my stop and I ascended the stairwell and I realized something even more comforting than finally having my act together.
And that would be not having my act together at all.
Because of COURSE I had missed the shuttle.
*I learned at my father's funeral just how many of the extended Sammis "family" read my blog, when a very sweet and well meaning woman, when being introduced to Ish, actually asked me in earnest: "Oh, is this the one who brings the laundry?"