So the reason I like Tuesday mornings is because I leave the house for work a whole one and a half hours earlier than I usually do. This doesn't seem like a great reason, given that it means one and a half hours less sleep, but it also means I get to take my time over breakfast in places like Raffles City.
I cannot fire on all cylinders without breakfast.
And Raffles City equals Starbucks and Macdonald's next to each other, which means I can nosh on not one, but two hashbrowns and a hazelnut latte at the same time. (Try it. I promise you, the subtle, sweet, nutty fragrance of the hazelnut makes all the difference in the world). And as I sit there, sweet caffeinated life flowing into my veins, I can take a little time out and breathe.
It was freezing on the train this morning and I actually had to hide behind one of the plexiglass panels to avoid that strange crosswind that sometimes blows through the MRT as it trundles down the line. Also, I forgot my iPod, so I had to sing to myself to work. And my hair got trapped in my bag multiple times.
(Anyone else have this problem where you have long hair and when you wear your shoulder bag, your hair gets trapped between your shoulder and the bag strap and pulls painfully and you have to free the hair and lift the strap at the same time and so you jump dorkily, in public, so that the bag and strap lift off your shoulder and simultaneously sweep your hair out from under like a complete bimbo? Um... yeah, me neither.)
Yet, the sky was blue, the sun was out and I had a soothing hot breakfast and a morning of people watching in me.
So, despite the fact that it's only Tuesday and the end of the week is nowhere in sight, I have, in my head, the zen of a quiet morning and the promise of an awesome concert this evening. I have, in my phone, quirky messages from friends and funny mmses to make me laugh. I have, in my heart, the stillness of being loved and the giddy happiness of loving in return.
And oddly enough, just now, I'm feeling fine.