Slow day

I don't know what is slowest about me today. Everything feels slow. Everything.

My wake-up at 7:35 a.m., when I rolled over to pick up my beeping cellphone and the only thing I could manage was to note that today was indeed 7/22/09, or 4 months since my last birthday, and then roll back over until 8:10, even after my cat Tusker jumped up onto the bed and stood several minutes with his rear end 2 inches from my nose.

The #9 Inbound bus, taking an extra 10 minutes to arrive, then taking an extra 10 minutes (25 total!) to get from Perkins Square to Copley, thanks to the broken water main that flooded the normal route up East Berkeley Street.

Today's eating schedule, which didn't start until I opened my yogurt and poured in the raw oatmeal in at 10:05 a.m., and continued in ignominious fashion a few moments ago when I decided to snack on a plum tomato by biting into it while sitting at my desk, rather than going to the kitchen to slice it, thereby losing approximately half the seeds and juice contained therein onto my brown silk pinstriped (dry clean only) trousers.

My brain, here at 11:56 a.m., seemingly impervious to the ministrations of my Turbo Ice, unable to compose an e-mail, any e-mail, be it business or personally related, in under 10 minutes, due apparently not to lack of sleep or lack of food or lack of adequate time on the bus to contemplate life, men, piano commitments, the movie I saw last night, or a sore right kneecap and sorer left ankle ... to the point where I should have completed my contemplation and moved right on to the doings of the day.

Alas.

Perhaps my salvation lies in power yoga at 1 p.m. Perhaps Ujjayi breathing will save my slow, slow Wednesday soul. Perhaps it will put it into deeper sleep.

Pray for me, my friends.