no parking 8 to 10am

by 8:10 am this morning, i had already gone through the range of what an average person feels in an average day. and not because i was doing anything special but just because i have finally entered the adult sleep pattern, in which you just dont sleep much. and this is not because you've made a bet and taken ritalin and driven out to the lake at 4am to prove that you are the ruler of your domain and then waited outside a greasy spoon until Dorris opens the door and serves you a cup of shitty coffee. it's just because you've got better things to do.

by 8:10 this morning, i'd had my hot flashes and thrashed around on top of the covers, i'd had the chills and sworn that i have to move to a tropical island by the time i'm 40. i had a minor coronary and then a wave a nausea when i caught my reflection in the mirror. i sweat trying to squeeze toothpaste out of a tube that was long dry. i had a bout of self-doubt and shame when i questioned whether the white flakes on my sweatshirt were dandruff or sugar from my bowl of frosted flakes, neither being acceptable.
i concentrated on my mental checklist of the hundred things i have to do today, and the realization that maybe five will get done, and then returned to the fact that i must have built a house on the beach of this island with hammocks at every turn. i became anxious at the thought of tomorrow when i make the same list, and then i talked to myself like Bill Murray does in 'what about bob.' baby steps, mando, baby steps. out the door on my bike to the coffee shop, my ne'er present maternal instinct kicked in when i saw a german shepherd puppy, its paws too big for its body and my kid self took over when i stopped to play.
when i arrived, the moral issue of living in a lawful society took hold as i tried to find the key to lock my bike. which seemed to take an embarrassingly long time. must i really secure everything i own at every second? am i too attached to my stuff? who would be stupid enough to steal a bike in front of a crowded coffee shop? who is that mean this early in the morning? how stupid am i for even risking it since my last bike was indeed stolen?
inside the door, at the end of the line, all of my social instincts fought for attention. be polite, but hold your ground. just because Betty here has a stroller doesn't entitle her to cut in line. the need for caffeine is indiscrimate. the need for caffeine may well be invented. an affectation. we're in LA after all. get out of here. but you're almost there. and they make a good chocolate croissant. don't look at the guy who keeps looking at you while scratching his balls. what time did she have to get up to make those fake eyelashes stick? and don't look so tired beause this poor cashier has been here since 4:30 this morning.
calm at the first sip.
burning at the second.
numb for the rest.
and then sheer, utter panic. it's street cleaning day. porca putana.
a tow job and 200 dollars that i aint got since the last one.
my bank account, my credit report, my career, my chance at winning the lotto flash at me as i spill the coffee on myself trying to put the lid on it so it wont spill. i hoist myself and my bag and my coffee and my adrenaline on my bike seat and tear down Abbot Kinney to beat the Man at damning me further into the system.
and for once i make it. and i think, wow, i'm good. very human of me.
i lock my bike again as i look for the keys to the car.
porca putana. am i that incompetent, where are the keys? i should not have been allowed to graduate kindergarten, my parents would be so embarrassed, how could i forget the keys, someone has it out for me, where are the keys? i am a victim of self-sabotage.
oopa, found 'em.
wow, i'm good.

and as i pull away in search of another slice of sidewalk to park my nice big truck, i feel totally ridiculous. all of this human emotion, physical reaction, the life of my morning, for a car, a sum of the parts, built to help me out with my life.
but then as i'm making a u-turn, this girl is leaving on the other side of the street where cleaning was yesterday. perfect timing. i wont have to park three miles away at the government subsidized crack housing unit. how did i get so lucky? somebody is looking out for me.
wow, life is good.