I'm having a morning. I was woken up at 7:30 to a rousing, screeching rendition of "Walk This Way" sung to the Classic Rock station. Which is, of course, one of my favorite ways of greeting the day. I have been listening to the siding guys bang, crash, saw, hammer and shout amicably at each other all week and this morning I have pretty much reached my upper limit of patience.
I really covet my quiet morning routine. It helps sets me up to greet my clients in a manner that allows me to be compassionate, understanding, and ready to assist them with their goals. Between the roofing guys and the siding guys, my quiet mornings have been nonexistent for the last month. As a result I have been struggling to find my peace, my ground, and my positive energy. In a last-ditch desperate attempt, I figured out the quietest space in the apartment and proceeded to make myself a little nest:
Yes, that is my storage closet. Yes, I realize how crazy and ridiculous this is. Sigh. It was working really well too. For 20 minutes. Then they started banging on my kitchen wall and all hope was lost. Feeling anxious and put-upon, I asked the Universe if I could have some happy/good/nice news or information or anything to help pull me out of this angsty place.
With what I figured was a small request made, I went into the kitchen to make myself an iced coffee. My Keurig exploded and spewed coffee grinds all over the kitchen.
Thank you, Universe. That was very funny and amusing. Ha ha. Ha.
It's okay to start drinking at 11:23 in the morning, right? It's close enough?
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