When life gives you lemons eat burgundy cherries instead

Today was hard in a I-don't-like-the-city-anymore-public-transit-is-awful-can-I-just-be-home-and-in-my-bed-with-some-frozen-yogurt kind of day. Work was good. Fun. Energizing.

But then I left to come home and felt dazed and lost in this big, big place. And the anxiety that steadily climbs in my chest until it rises into tears in my eyes was starting to palpitate in me as I tried to ensure I caught all of the right train connections. I stared at my reflection in the train window as it whizzed through the black tunnel and my face was stony and my eyes a little sunken.

Normally it's fine. Today I wanted to stop thinking.

There was a train accident on my line but I made my connection anyway. I bought myself some overpriced burgundy cherries bursting with juice and didn't bother cleaning them except to shine them on my shirt sleeve and roll them between my thumb and forefinger as if I were doing something other than spreading the germs around. But they were so sweet in my mouth.

A young man came up to me as I waited in the train station and he opened his mouth to ask me something (for something, I presumed). I cut him off: "Nein!"

He looked surprised. I wasn't as soft and sweet as he had estimated. It wasn't until a couple minutes later that I realized how harsh I must have sounded, the language barrier clouding my reaction.

So tonight, tonight I get a little more sleep. I take my allergy pills. And tomorrow, tomorrow I'll eat toast with peanut butter, welcome the sunshine with a smiling face, and properly clean my fruit.