Thursday, March 18, 2010

Three Leaf Clover

We all know things happen in 3's. Like the deaths of Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, and Walter Cronkite. My St. Patrick's Day has been kinda like that, minus a celebrity death.
I've had a difficult time adjusting to the time change, and refuse to change the clock next to my bed in protest. The downside of my solo stand in being that I don't drag myself out of bed till at least 6:30 (really 7:30).
After showering, test driving 3 outfits and pouring a double espresso shot the 3 leaf clover began. While vacillating between the green scarf or the multi-colored green scarf I had zeroed in on shoes and whipped the right side of my closet shut faster than you can say, "severely bruised appendage".
Once the feeling came back to my fingertips, it was pushing 7:30 (8:30) and I had to get to work. What ensued next was a frantic 20 minute search for my keys which included dumping out my purse, searching the pockets of the last five coats I wore and crawling on the carpet looking under my bed. As I started reloading my oversize purse, I looked down and my keys were sitting in the bottom of said purse. Huzzah!
I have now entered the red zone of being really late to work by rolling out of the apartment at 7:50 (8:50) and heading for the bus. From the corner, I can see all the way to the top of Fulton, and can usually spy the next bus. But this morning, there's nothing en route. I sidle up next to the other 10 people wearing green sweaters and wait. And wait. 25 minutes later, a smug overpaid bus driver finally pulls around the corner.
I got off the bus at Market and strolled to my office in my J. Crew boyfriend cardigan, a spring in my step and smiling Irish eyes. 3 leaf clovers aren't so bad afterall.

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