Today, I was just rushing.

Rushing here, rushing there. But getting nowhere, really.

I finally left the office and rushed to the gym.  I did a few exercises (because I was rushing, of course).  Pull-ups (pull-ups are good exercise when you don’t have time to do a full exercise regimen. I hate pull-ups. And all the boys think it’s really cute that a gray-haired, middle-aged lady can do pull-ups. (I can do about three sets of three, so don’t be impressed.)

I missed the uptown bus and hailed a cab because I was rushing home. I got out of the cab and rushed into my building because I was rushing.

I stop in my tracks.

Our coop [for those of you outlanders, a homeowners’ association] is having its annual shareholders meeting in the lobby. I gave the president my proxy but still I cannot walk through the lobby past all my neighbors toward the elevator. It is the grown up version of doing the morning walk of shame across the college quad after a night of beer goggling.

So, I CAN’T.

I am effectively locked out of my home until 9pm. My family is happily relaxing upstairs and I am left to loiter and hover.

Rushing to no avail. The story of today.

Tomorrow I will take time to smell the garbage (there are no roses in New York City).