According to my horoscope I was supposed to spend the day crying. For no real apparent reason. And though I would try to fight it, I was supposed to just let the tears flow because I needed the release.
I woke up that morning feeling sick the way women sometimes feel sick during certain times of the month. So I text Marie and told I was going to skip the morning workout and then made myself a cup of coffee and spooned Zuzu on the couch while watching the news. And because it was that time of the month tears could flow at any moment, but none came.
As Good Morning America was starting I got off the couch, went upstairs unpacked my work clothes from my gym bag and replaced them with my gym clothes, deciding I would hit the gym after work.
I worked late that night. As I signed off I wondered if I should just go home to Zuzu. By the time I got off the rowing machine or treadmill and stretched and then made it home it would be close to 9 p.m. Was that fair to her?
It was raining when I left the office. It would be much easier to race to the trolley line on the corner than it would be to transverse the six blocks to the gym.
Three blocks from the gym a taxi nearly hits me. He was turning and talking to his passenger and didn't see that I was crossing with the light. I got out of the way in time and hit the car with my umbrella. Still, I pressed on.
At the gym, there were no towels at the front desk. This probably doesn't even warrant a shrug from some of you — after all, I did just survive nearly being run down by a taxi — but for those of us who sweat a lot, this is a huge problem. I knew there was a chance that by the time I made my way back from the locker room the towel supply would be refreshed. Of course there was also a chance it wouldn't be.
I made my way to the locker room, found an empty locker, pulled out my clothes, relieved I had remembered both socks and a sports bra this time, and then set about getting undressed and dressed again.
It wasn't until I was dressed and packing things back up that I realized I had forgotten a hair tie.
Sitting on the bench, thinking about the wine at my house, the late hour, the cab that almost hit me, the fact that there were no towels at the front desk when I walked in and now I didn't even have a hair tie I seriously thought about quitting; about heading back up the stairs, getting on the sub and opening that bottle of wine when I got home. It is clearly what the universe wants. Weren't all the signs there?
Then I looked down and right by my foot was a hair tie.
A stranger's hair tie.
Who knows how long it had been there and how many feet has stepped on it. Bare feet. Feet in sweaty socks. Feet in filthy boots.
And I had a bottle of wine at home.
When I got up to the cardio room all the rowing machines were being used, mostly by dudes with no idea how to use them. Still the hardest part of my day was picking up that hair tie and using it to pull back my hair.
But I didn't quit.
And I didnt cry.
If the universe was testing me, I have to say, I think I passed.