A mistake


This morning I was booked on a 7:15 spin class. That meant I had to be up at 6:30, and this coincided with the one day so far that La Serpiente Aquatica Negra has decided to be cute and lie asleep between us, looking adorable, rather than thrash back and forth in the early morning, doling out punishments to her parents’ faces.

So suffice it to say I wasn’t really feeling it at the spin class. Visions of my slumbering child kept swimming before my eyes when I should have been concentrating on pedalling a bicycle to nowhere in particular. It was still tough enough that near the end I was close to weeping, but I had the feeling I’d sacrificed the wrong time of my day.

Afterwards, I waited five minutes to cool down before taking a cold shower, but it didn’t matter: my shirt was still soaked through with sweat before I even walked down the street to the office. I changed into a t-shirt and looked scruffy all day instead.

At least I remembered to eat some breakfast, but it was a pretty terrible plate of scrambled eggs and a hideous latte – that was a botch job I don’t want to repeat. The day hurtled past with a break for lunch and then meetings meetings meetings until I left at 6:30. I almost had no chance of seeing my daughter awake: Tuesday is Spanish class, and that meant a frustrating couple of hours because it was time for an exam. Or rather, an exercise in proving how much I hadn’t learned.

However, as luck would have it, I took one meeting downstairs at the coffee shop, and at about four thirty wife and child went past. This was good, because I got to see them, but bad, because I provoked another bout of separation anxiety, La Serpiente Aquatica Negra crying "Daddeee" all the way to my parents’ hotel.

Tomorrow will have less of this, I hope.


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