The morning began with the same musical cascade as always. Infernal, chiding harp strings; invasive as five years of yesterdays.
I find my bearings, find my snooze button, find my phone, and find my feet.
I look down at the floor in front of me, and see the quarter that I had lost 24 hours ago.
"Hello." I say.
I smile, and put it in my pocket.
~*~*~*~
The kitchen floor is too cold, and the oven is too hot. The coffee is too strong, and my eyes are too weak. I can't see the directions for the biscuits, much less the day ahead.
I find the creamer, find the coffee cup, find the marmalade, and find the ritual quite mundane.
I look on the dryer, and see my Luna Lovegood t-shirt I was looking for days ago.
"Hello." I say.
I smile, and suspect Nargles were behind it.
~*~*~*~
The crisp January air sends chills from my neck down to my fingertips. I am an electrode, sensing the subtle changes in nature's temperature and temperament.
I find the car keys, find the heater, find the aux cord, and find "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles.
I look on the dash, and see my orange yo-yo that had fallen under the seat weeks ago.
"Hello." I say.
I smile, and think of the little boy in Romania who gave it to me.
~*~*~*~
The drive to work is a cataclysm of cars, congestion, convergence, caution lights, and cacophony. I am a blue meteor, darting between marching ants with their antennas waving.
I find my exit, find the gas station, find my wallet, and find the cashier quite annoying.
I look in my wallet, and find a photo of my goddaughter I'd thought I'd lost months ago.
"Hello." I say.
I smile, and remember when she danced with me. Before she outgrew us, and discovered boys.
~*~*~*~
The parking lot is sparsely populated, dotted only with a spattering of cars owned by the people who unlock doors and straighten shelves and count cash drawers and prepare today's batch of salsa.
I find my nametag, find my water bottle, find my hoodie, and find the strength to get out of the car.
I look by the door where I go in, and to my utter disbelief, I find a single, brilliant, perfect pearl on the sidewalk outside.
(She is checking her phone, and doesn't notice me at first.)
"Hello." I say.
I smile, and she smiles back.
"Hello." She says.
The planet had shifted on it's axis.
Strangely, not an empty oyster shell in sight.
~*~*~*~
"You are only given a few days in life that are truly exceptional. Some of those are disguised as just regular old todays. Each one of those exceptional todays has a hidden joy inside. You can ignore it, or discover it. It's too important to ignore. Find the joy in your today." ~ Barbara Greene
