Coffee and a Conversation
As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.
1. Excitement - when you go to your mailbox thinking that your subscription to Reader's Digest has finally arrived.
2. Confusion - when you think the mailman made a mistake by putting what must be someone else's latest edition of Maxim in your mailbox.
Sometimes I think I'm an unlucky person, and then I reach my hand into my bag to grab my computer, and come out with a staple stuck under my nail. It's at that point that I realized I could probably remove the "I think" part of the previous sentence.
I'm the type to drop TV's on her foot. Get hit by falling mirrors. Drop my mug onto another mug so as to take a notch out of both of them.
Come to find out, it may run in the family, or so my dad said my grandma said. So maybe someone said it once at one time. And at the time it was said, I outrightly said I don't think I'm that unlucky. In the grand scheme of things, I am actually pretty lucky. My family is pretty great, I grew up in a good neighborhood, went to a great college and have been employed.
Sure, it's easy to get caught up in the moment and think that life is so difficult. And it's out to get me. And my life is harder than everyone else's.
When you think about it more though, you might just realize that your life had lots of moments that compete for most lucky moments. What are some of your luckiest moments?
Read MoreIt's been a few weeks since the great mirror fall of 2014. Since then, the bone has been covered, stitches have been taken out and mederma has become a daily addition to my routine. All is going well, and my workout ban has been lifted. It's been lifted ,plus a few days (just got to make sure that it's fully healed, right?). But finally, I decided to get back into the swing of working out.
Transitioning back to exercise is exciting. The feeling of getting your treadmill legs back. The slow rhythm building, despite all the trauma of the previous weeks.
A slow burn building in the left muscles of the stomach. Breath is getting slower. Staccato.
As the sweat build and muscles tense, only one thought crosses my mind...
It's good to be back.
Even though the run was slower and shorter than usual. The weights are lighter and the reps are lower. But, hell yeah, it's good to be back.
You know that moment when you're trying to be a real, functioning adult, and then the end of the pen shoots off, making doing real work seemingly impossible? Well, that's what happened to me this one week. Twice.
Here's a recap (no pen pun intended):
The first pen-spolosion happened when myself and a friend went to our alumni chapter meeting, where we represented our entire school's chapter. So I was sort of shambly to begin with, because my shoe had broken, I had forgotten any sort of paper and could only find a pen in the tray in my car. So the day wasn't starting off the best it could be, and then this happened.
I went to go click my pen to write down the set-up time, and the entire tip of the pen rocketed off, right at the head of an elder man sitting across from me. He took it well, made a joke and the meeting continued.
But without that damn pen tip, I had to write with that dinky little tube from the center of the pen for the rest of the night. My hand writing looked incredibly similar to a four-year-old's.
Then- I kid you not, two days later, I'm in this meeting with some pretty important people from work, and I rocket the end of another pen off right at the pregnant lady.
That time, no one even seemed phased by it. People are starting to expect this shit from me, I guess. I'm not sure if that's a win or a loss.