Today started as one of the manic Mondays when everything that could go wrong, does. It started with the fridge in my house, which seemed to have stopped working. The prospect of having to throw away everything I had cooked over the weekend, or risking eating it and falling sick loomed before my eyes. When I go to uni, my access card wouldn't let me into the PhD room. I remembered there was an IT shutdown over the weekend which had messed up the access system the last time around as well, so I would just have to wait until the IT people go to work. Feeling unusually motivated for a Monday morning, I decided I would read a book for my thesis chapter on my Kindle. Only to discover that my Kindle was out of charge. At that moment, it really felt like fate was messing with me.
But, the day got better. A cleaner let me into the office. And after wasting a few hours alternately fretting about the state of the world and the state of my day, I got down to work and managed to turn the day into a productive one.
As I headed home, I was hoping that the fridge had magically started working again. It was not to be. I decided to do some yoga to force myself to relax before informing my housemates and spreading the anxiety or, at least, annoyance around more evenly. Yoga made me feel more relaxed and open to the idea that throwing away some food was not the end of the world. I told one of my housemates who promptly took charge of the situation, as I was hoping he would. I had resolved that even if my foo tasted slightly off, I would throw it away. It didn't, so I ate it, and to be honest, my stomach feels a little funny. I think it is nerves because the food tasted fine. My housemates enterprising mother who doesn't speak a word of English, took charge of the situation and supervised me as I packed my food to store in my backyard. She worked like clockwork and it felt like she had been coping with broken down fridges her whole life. Anyway, a good end to a day that started off on a hairy note.
But, the day got better. A cleaner let me into the office. And after wasting a few hours alternately fretting about the state of the world and the state of my day, I got down to work and managed to turn the day into a productive one.
As I headed home, I was hoping that the fridge had magically started working again. It was not to be. I decided to do some yoga to force myself to relax before informing my housemates and spreading the anxiety or, at least, annoyance around more evenly. Yoga made me feel more relaxed and open to the idea that throwing away some food was not the end of the world. I told one of my housemates who promptly took charge of the situation, as I was hoping he would. I had resolved that even if my foo tasted slightly off, I would throw it away. It didn't, so I ate it, and to be honest, my stomach feels a little funny. I think it is nerves because the food tasted fine. My housemates enterprising mother who doesn't speak a word of English, took charge of the situation and supervised me as I packed my food to store in my backyard. She worked like clockwork and it felt like she had been coping with broken down fridges her whole life. Anyway, a good end to a day that started off on a hairy note.
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