First day back

The day started out in misery. I awoke with cramps reminiscent of the throes of labour and cursed the day I was born with a uterus. Luckily, my mom offered to do the school run scoot and got Emmie  showered, dressed, fed, and out the door in record time despite an obscene amount of dawdling and backtalking on Emmie’s part. I managed to drag myself out of bed long enough to share a warm scone with Zoie and then we both went back to bed until 1.30pm. Bliss.

By 3.15pm Emmie was home and I was dressed, dosed up on paracetamol, and reluctantly ready to head into London town. I made it to the station ambitiously early and stopped at charity shop to buy a book for the train journey. The book I chose is about a little boy whose imaginary friend turns out to be a demon. Nice. I’m fairly certain I will only read it in the daytime. Near a church. When it’s sunny and the birds are singing…

Somehow I managed to find the correct classroom in record time and sat in the front row, because I am the definition of a nerd scholar. And because it is exceedingly  difficult to fall asleep when you are in full view of the teacher. As an icebreaker (fairly pointless as I knew most everyone in the class already) we played a “game” where we had to describe a fellow classmate and assign them a color and a song. I described my subject as “calm and collected”, assigned her the color “swimming pool blue” and imagined she was a piece of classical music, one instrument.  The teacher said I was a wonderful story-teller and that I engaged him. He said listening to me speak made him want to lean forward in his seat. Well I just about floated out of the room, my head was so in the clouds after such a barrage of compliments.

On the way home my Oyster card decided that the first day of class wouldn’t be the first day of class without some Oyster drama.  As I stood in front of the bus driver breathlessly explaining that my card DID have money on it, the embarrassment and annoyance washed over my already fatigued body. I could feel the cramps returning as the driver gave me a dismissive wave of his hand which meant “I know your broke ass don’t have any money, just go sit down before I change my mind.”

Seeing the light of my front door seemed to be the most lovely thing in the world. A beacon of hope after a tiring day. The oasis in the desert, the light at the end of the tunnel – pretty much every cliché you can think of rolled in to one. I was greeted by a pajama-ed Zoie screeching “mama!” and dancing happily in the hallway. Emmie was long asleep and I crept into the bedroom to stroke her hair and tell her I love her. Seeing her sleeping so peacefully gave me a stab of guilt that I had missed the bedtime story, the cuddle goodnight…

I ran a hot shower and rinsed away fifteen hours of stress. And now as I type, the soft folds of the duvet engulf me, pillows caress my shoulders. Soon I will melt away into the sleep I have been craving. It was a good first day. Better than many. I suppose I can’t complain. So I won’t.


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