For the first time in eleven years as a single mom I literally went on strike. I refused to get out of bed to bring Nerjis to school this morning. I just couldn't. I switched off my alarm, looking for some comfort under my white linen sheets. Nerjis took off on her own. I know she can so I tried not feeling guilty.
I eventually got out of bed myself 10 minutes later, quickly jumped under the shower . I had to skip my daily freshly squeezed grapefruit juice because of an empty fridge, needed a strong Nespresso coffee in stead.
On my way from my house to the Phileas Fogg,
Sometimes we see many, few are the days we spot none. Brompton bikes are highly popular in Brussels and from what I see on the few occasions I take the train, in the rest of the country too.
Nerjis has her own, a pink one, and mine, a pale green bike, sits waiting for me somewhere in my architect's attic far away in Buenos Aires. Guessing from the total import ban for foreign bikes , it undoubtedly is the only Brompton bike in Argentina !
I couldn't stop myself from crying and I for once let myself to it not having to deal with customers over breakfast this morning. I called my mom to cancel the upcoming dinner on her 71st birthday, anticipating the fact I will not be in the mood to celebrate. I nearly called my best friend to tell her I would not be cooking a risotto diner on the occasion of HER birthday, but I didn't.
My tears had dried and I felt so much lighter. I even managed to re-do the invoice for the commune and send my lawyer a dozen photos of my by-humidity-decaying facade in the case against my neighbours.
I called my dog, Nefer, took her on the leish for a walk to the Brussels Park. It takes less than 15 minutes, past the city hall, down through the Madou metro tunnel, past the postal office, the Flemish Parliament, - where workers were still busy taking down the installations of last weekend's federal and regional elections, - in order to reach the park . I do not mind the grey sky as long as the temperatures are decent. With each step, I managed to shed the weight in my heavy stomach.
No, I am not blessed with my family, though they gave me many chances. I know there is no point telling my mom what's wrong, she would only answer: " you know, when I was young .... I had a difficult time too." I am 'single', so there is no boyfriend either to bother with my heavy mood. My close friends are at work... their portable phones probably switched off.
Fresh air can do miracles. Not that I was ready to dance the tango, yet on my way back I grabbed a take-away coffee ' milk, no sugar please ' at EXKI's ... feeling so much better as I entered the Phileas for the second time this morning.