1:14 pm
The plan for September 19th, 2017 was to get organized and to be productive. After much dilly-dallying with my affairs, weekend escapades to paradise lands and loafing around, that Tuesday was to be devoted to completing long-avoided errands. By 1 pm, I made the decision that in 15 mins I would begin arranging after I showered. By 1:13 pm, I was in the bathroom, when I noticed a change in my vision. For many years, I have “suffered” from low blood pressure and mild dizziness is quotidian. The swaying rapidly gained force and in a slight second I realized, this isn’t a flaw in my circulation, but rather a grievous adjustment of the Earth. I held on tightly to the sink, calming myself by repeating the sole mantra I will never forget, “this will end soon,” concentrating on the small window drowning the shower in white light. I paled at the sight of the walls moving like elastic, back and forth like a slow-motion video of gelatin on a plate. Somewhat late, but just in time, my reflexes to remove myself from a potentially crumbling building kicked in, and I ran down the steps. Everything after those estimated eternal twenty seconds and the days that followed can only be described as a helplessly confusing and a dreadfully long nightmare.
The screams.
The barking.
The sirens.
The anguish.
The older we get the less prevalent gifts are. Even the pair of socks we despised receiving when we were children are a glorious gift nowadays. Yet, my parents being the incredibly considerate (and slightly spoil me…) people they are, always intend on giving me something on my name day. Touching, I know. This year, as I have been doing for the past 5-6 years, I asked for nothing. I don’t need anything materialistic, I have all that I want and need, so please don’t buy me anything. 
