Friday Time

I'm just going to write a bit about my morning.

Jakob likes to throw his pants over the chair in our room. It's fine that he does this. He has a small closet and I tend to throw my clothes in one big pile by my dresser. I tell myself it's not dumpy, it's modern art.

Anywho, his jeans are draped over the back of the chair and, more often than not, he leaves coins in his pockets. Whatever change he's accumulated throughout the day is just barely defying gravity as it clings to the inner most region of his pocket. I go to sit in the chair to put on my shoes this morning and a bunch of coins fell out of Jakob's pants and into the back of MY pants! My 'coin slot' LITERARLY became a coin slot. I had to fish change out from my crack. Think about that the next time you get change at the store!

Then, I go to get a Friday latte. I normally get a black coffee because I'm all cool and hardcore and a tough cookie and all that. (Um...I'm a poser.) But on Fridays I get a latte to congratulate myself for making it through another week.

The guy at Indie Coffee asked me my name. I said, 'Nicole.' He said, "Nickel?" Yep. That's my name. Nickel. What? Who's name is Nickel? I corrected him and took my drink.

As I walked away, I started thinking about my name and how I've had such a love /hate relationship with it over the years. I feel like I don't fit in with other ladies named 'Nicole.' They tend to be powerful or sexy and I am neither. Then there are times when it suits me. 'Nicole' could be adventurous. Sure. Nicole could be the name of the tomboy who climbed trees with you and played in the mud and eventually became your first crush...maybe. And as I was getting lost in this thought, I fell. I tripped. It was an incredibly goofy trip, one you can't convert into a wobble or a dance move. I tried to save my latte, but my congratulatory beverage was destined for the pavement.

I remained on the ground and laughed. No one was even around to see my beautiful blunder, so I had to write about it.