Some mornings there’s a song that I think about. I first heard it on my drive to work, when I used to drive for an hour to complete the first leg of my two-hour commute. It’s pop-country. It’s twangy and upbeat. It can be annoying.

But I love this song, because the opening four lines make me laugh (primarily at myself) every time. Not only is it so, so true, but it happens. And I know it doesn’t just happen to me.

It goes like this:

Missed my alarm clock ringin’, woke up telephone screamin’
Boss man singin’ his same old song
Rolled in late about an hour, no cup of coffee, no shower
Walk of shame with two different shoes on

I have never gone to work with two different shoes on, and my boss has never called to inquire about my tardiness, and I’ve never actually been late to work. But the point is: I am always a disheveled bundle of stress scurrying to work in the morning, and this song makes me laugh about it.

In fact, my morning routine upon arriving at work is what most people do before they leave the house in the morning and it usually involves:

1. Put bag at desk, log in to computer.

2. Make a stop at the bathroom to wash hands (metro germs!).

3. Put on make-up in the bathroom, hopefully before saying good morning to anyone.

4. Adjust wardrobe; Add sweater and belt from tote bag stash, remove cat hair from clothing with scotch tape.

5. On rainy or winter days, change out of boots into acceptable shoes.

6.  Return to desk as if I walked into work put together.

Here is a bad video of the song “It Happens” by Sugarland, if you would like to get the full effect. I think it has a good, light-hearted message that is necessary to keep in mind when you get caught up in the nine-to-five-rush-around-look-important-and-busy phenomenon in this area. Enjoy!

This morninwill-smith-the-fresh-prince-of-bel-airg I woke up after a thoroughly enjoyable three-day weekend relaxed, rejuvenated and ready for the week. In fact I was so relaxed that I felt little need to rush around. As I meandered through my morning routine I realized I would not be leaving at 7:15 for the metro, and resigned to the idea of watching a little more Meredith Vieira (can’t stand her, but I watch anyway) on the Today Show while I ironed my shirt. As the great Will Smith once said, I was “chillin’ out, maxin’, relaxin’ all cool…” or something.

I eventually caught the shuttle and walked calmly and in a half-sleep into the metro while the masses bustled around me. Sometimes it’s refreshing to slow down.

I guess I disturbed the natural order of things by going about my morning at 1/3 of my normal pace, because things started to get weird as I turned toward the entrance. First, I got stepped on while waiting for my SmarTrip to register on the farecard machine and let me through. No big deal, I get stepped on a lot.

When I got to the left side of the escalator down to the platform and realized no one was walking (escaleftors, all of ’em!), it didn’t bother me too much because as I said before, I was taking it easy this morning. But then a train pulled up and I was still stuck in the immobile line of people on the escalator, and as easy as I might have been taking it, I was determined to get on that train. So I started the stand-on-my-toes look-impatiently-around-the-person-in-front-of-me thing to see what the problem was.c_rueben

The source: An old couple that had to be pushing 90, one with a cane and the other with the largest eye glasses I’ve ever seen. Think Reuben from the Ocean’s trilogy, but much much older. They were standing bewildered on both sides of the escalator, unknowingly blocking traffic while the people behind me yelled things like “Ya gonna walk today?!” and “How about MOOOVING!!”

Right as the train stopped and the old couple hobbled off the escalator and safely into seats, the escalator sped up causing everyone to grab something. I resisted.

Then it came to a seriously abrupt stop, causing me to grab the shoulder of the man in front of me as I was launched forward. Oops.

The huddle of people left on the escalator used the momentum to get onto the train which thankfully was not crowded and I secured a seat without any effort. I made myself comfortable thinking Man, that was stressful and decided this was not a reading-on-the-metro day. I closed my eyes and continued to try to take it easy.

Once I got to metro center I learned that the red line in my direction was delayed due to a problem at the Bethesda station. It turns out a woman jumped in front of a train at Bethesda yesterday, and today it was still causing problems? Anyway, it was  one of two metro fatalities this weekend and one of three red line suicides that has affected my commute. It’s really unfortunate.

To end on a much happier note:

1. It’s a beautiful day outside

2. My sore right wrist/arm combination from batting a thousand at the cages yesterday is causing me to type really slowly and really poorly. Trust me, it’s much more comical than it is pitiful.

3. I got an iced coffee from Starbucks for breakfast (at the Starbucks or the Starbucks or the Starbucks or the Starbucks) …If you haven’t already, enjoy:

I don’t usually like to post about work, but this topic is exceptionally ridiculous and I can’t help myself.

MTV’s “reality” show The Real World — you know the one about seven strangers, picked to live in a house to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start being real — it’s coming to DC. And this week someone scooped the location of the huge, pimped-out house they will occupy during their 5ish-month stay.

The building is next to my work.

Literally, steps from the door I walk in and out of every Monday through Friday.

Of course this has caused a humorous reaction as the news has snaked through the company. Some people are angry about the potential to lose parking. Some are star-stricken by all the local places the cast-mates might show up — “Our Safeway! Our Starbucks! The Big Hunt!”

As for me, I fully intend to catch the background of a few shots when the kids are stumbling home at the same time I’m zombie-walking to work.

I’m not sure if it’s known when the filiming is to begin, or whether people have been cast already, but I do know the $6 million row house is still under renovation. And I just commented to a coworker last week that I hate that we walk through a construction site to go to lunch every day. Voila, it’s MTV’s fault.

They have covered all the windows so you can’t see in, but sometimes they leave the doors open (for drying paint?) and I sneek a peak. It’s very much still under renovation and is consequently boring.

Here is a link to some pictures of the house. I assume these were taken a while back, because I’m almost certain it’s empty of its former office-ware now.

I am ashamed of myself.

I’m usually a fast walker. Most of the time it’s not because I have somewhere to be in a hurry, I just don’t like being stuck in crowds or being forced to slow my pace by even slower people. And when I’m outside in the mornings, I usually walk fast to keep warm – not necessarily to get to work quicker.

Today when I got off the train at Union Station, I tried to walk fast (like usual) to the escalator to get into the station, so I could walk fast to the metro. But it didn’t work.

My legs would barely move, and when they did the rest of my body refused to follow. No – I wasn’t having a stroke or a heart attack and I don’t have any broken limbs or [seriously] pulled muscles. I’m just sore.

Let me tell you why I’m sore.

Yesterday was the debut of Sunday Fundays – a group of us got together and played kickball for a couple hours. It was a beautiful day and kickball was a great way to be outside with everyone. I even got a sunburn on my face. Hello, spring!

We all did pretty well; everyone got at least a base hit here and there, made plays in the outfield or spent some time on the pitcher’s mound. There were high-scoring innings, clutch double-plays and even a home run. I would say it was a great success.

Except now I’m sore from playing kickball. And I am ashamed of myself.

Even sitting at my desk at work right now, my rear end hurts every time I shift weight. I have to use my hands to pick up my leg in order to cross it over the other. I’ve been hobbling semi-crouched to the kitchen and back to refill my tea.

I am ashamed of myself. But I can’t wait to play again next weekend.