Almost perfect

Today I woke up 1 minute before my alarm clock and smiled as I stared at the ceiling, happy to have lived to see another day. I didn't have any significant aches or pains that made me want to stay in bed. I didn't even have the urge to hit the snooze button. I rolled over on my left shoulder and noticed my synthetic leather basketball just within reach on the floor below. I stretched to bring it toward me, flipping it up into shooting position as I lay there on my back. Checking to see that my elbow was properly tucked at my side, I shot the ball straight up, watching it roll off my fingertips spinning backward to its apex, just a hair's breadth away from scraping the ceiling. It returned to my hand as I smiled a satisfied smile. I shot it again and again, each time enjoying the muffled sound of the seams singing as they cut the air en route to another near encounter with the ceiling. Straight up. Straight down. Soft on the fingertips. A beautiful thing.

I got out of bed, flipped on VH-1 Soul videos and went to brush my teeth. I glanced through the blinds and saw the sun peeking around the buildings, making long, cool shadows that stretched all the way down my empty street. This is when my street has that just before the parade, on the other side of the barricades look. Unlike the weekdays when the state and federal buildings are bustling with people walking to and fro, and all the adjacent blocks are lined with cars, Saturdays and Sundays have a certain purity.

Almost excited about the day now, I threw on my sweats and laced up the sneaks, grabbed the beat-up, blue gym bag with my clothes in it and headed for the door. Club One was calling my name. I stepped out of the elevator and hit the double doors out of my building in full stride. Only slightly startled by the cool morning air, I couldn't wait to get to the gym. About 10 steps later, however, I wished I had worn my gloves as the tips of my fingers seemed to be freezing just that quickly. I picked up the pace. Once inside, I made a bee-line for the locker room. Still feeling the lingering effects of this cold, the steam room would be the first order of business. My fingers thawed. I got dressed and went upstairs to put my name on the list. In this fairly sterile setting, the "who's got next?" debate has been replaced by the list. The next five guys to play are the next five names on the list. What an infallible system. Of course not. That's another topic in itself. I had just enough time to lift weights while the 3 games in front of mine finished up. We got on the court and wrecked shop for a couple games. Content to call this my cardio workout for the day, I hit the showers, lest I overdo it and come up injured.

In my mind's eye, laying out the day's to-do list on an excel spreadsheet of sorts, everything fit neatly into little time-slots. I would return home, enjoy some oatmeal, go get my haircut, run my errand, have some lunch, clean up, and relax. The oatmeal was great. Two shakes of cinnamon, a handful of raisins, some soy milk, and a teaspoon of brown sugar. I paid some bills online and tracked some packages as well. Discovering that the last delivery was on the truck for delivery, I tried to be around to receive it. Michigan was playing UCLA on TV so I watched for awhile. The Bruins were having a bad day but would eventually pull away from the hapless Wolverines. I reminisced about a time when this would've actually been a great game, one that you might even change plans to watch. My how things change. Thanks C-Webb. Thanks J-Rose.

My spreadsheet was slipping off its grid. I had to get to the barbershop before the day got away from me. But this package. It still hadn't arrived. I had a great idea to write a note leaving strict instructions for the delivery guy to take the package to the sales office if I weren't around. Of course, this shouldn't be necessary since my voicemail expresses these exact sentiments, but somehow the majority of the couriers don't get it. I grabbed my keys and headed out once again, note in hand. I stepped out the elevator and who should be walking toward the door but the delivery guy. He looked surprised when I knew that the package was for me. It was almost perfect.