Today, the Universe Hit Snooze… So I Handled It (Again)

Today was one of those days. Phew and what a day it was!

You know, the kind that starts off with misplaced optimism — “Let’s get things done!” — and ends with you muttering to yourself like a deranged wizard:
“How is it that everything… literally everything… is slipping through the cracks, and I’m the only one noticing it?”

From tasks left half-done to the mysterious disappearance of instructions I very clearly gave (twice, in writing, with voice notes and underlined bullet points, mind you), it felt like the universe had collectively decided to take a nap. And I? I was apparently elected (without consent) as the wake-up call.

Laundry? Still wet.
Emails? Unsent.
That project file? Uploaded in the wrong folder.
Lunch plan? What plan? Even my cook looked confused.
The printer? In therapy.

And yet somehow, everyone around me looked genuinely shocked that I had spotted the glitches. I don’t have X-ray vision, folks — just a fully functioning brain and the patience of a yoga instructor at a toddler’s birthday party.

Honestly, some days I feel like my core superpower is “seeing the mess no one else does” — and not just seeing it, but being expected to clean it up with a smile, some philosophical wisdom, and a home-cooked meal to go with it.

But here’s the funny part.
Despite the chaos, despite the migraine that politely joined the party by late afternoon, and despite the internal monologue that sounded like an Oscar-winning monologue titled “Why Me Again?”, I’m okay.

Let me get this out there: I was raised right. Not in a ‘my-mom-packed-almonds-in-my-lunchbox’ kind of way, but in the good ol’ army brat, stand-up-straight-even-when-life-hits-hard, values-are-not-optional sort of way. My upbringing ensured two things:

1. I won’t crumble at the first sign of chaos.
2. I will probably make a joke about it.

So, when life throws dirt at me — and believe me, it does, regularly and with suspicious precision — I don’t hurl it back. I compost it. Add some humour, a dollop of perspective, and grow a blooming garden of sass.

Because I’ve been trained for this.

Not by fancy degrees, not by HR workshops, but by life.
By an upbringing that taught me: you don’t throw tantrums, you throw solutions.
You don’t break down — you break it down. With logic. With empathy. And when all else fails, with biting sarcasm and chai.

You see, somewhere between mopping puppy pee, holding on to sanity during Sunday meal prep while the beagle chews through yet another piece of paper, managing projects where everyone seems to think WhatsApp is an acceptable workplace, and holding myself back from saying, “Are you serious right now?” at least 15 times a day — I have discovered the fine art of thriving in the mess.

I’m not ‘strong’ in the movie-montage sense of the word.
I’m strong in the “Did I just handle a crisis, fold laundry, attend a Zoom call, and stop the bunnies from eating the houseplant all in one breath?” sense.
Add a migraine to that and it becomes an Olympic sport.

So I laughed.
Because what else can you do when the entire day feels like it’s been designed by someone who failed a “How to Adult 101” course?

I laughed when the cleaner said she thought she cleaned the bathroom.
I laughed when the message thread clearly said “done” but nothing was.
I even laughed when my dog Loki decided to walk in, sniff the air like something’s off here, and walk out, shaking his head like not my circus today, lady.

Philosophy? Do I have that after a mad day? Oh yes, I’ve got oodles of it.
I’ve learned that not everyone will get me — or my humour, or my honesty, or my complete inability to pretend. But that’s okay. Because when the world says, “Why don’t you just let it go?”, I look around, think of the people who raised me, the ones who love me, the values that anchor me — and I find my calm.

Then I put on my metaphorical crown (sometimes the literal one too — glitter and all — depending on the mood) and remind myself:

I may not have control over the storms, but I have a kickass raincoat stitched with resilience, lined with wit, and waterproofed with experience.

And now when the storms seem done, at the end of it all, I sit down — with my resilience intact, my dignity mildly ruffled, and my sense of humour fully operational. Because somewhere in this messy, magnificent journey, I’ve realized:

I don’t survive life.
I manage it. Curate it. Mop it. And when needed — rewire it.

And yes, I trip.
I fall.
I cry.
Then I pick myself up, dust off the nonsense, give life a smirk and a side-eye, and say —
“Nice try. I’ve been trained for worse.”

And that is with a grin, a growl, and a whole lot of gumption.

#ResilienceQueen

#TodayWasAMasterclassInPatience

#WhereIsMyCape

#AdultingLikeABoss

#LifeKeepsThrowingLemonsIDontEvenLikeLemonade

#BornResilient

#WitBeforeWhining

#GraceInTheGrime

#LifeWithAnjali

#ResilienceAndSarcasm

#QueenOfCalmAndChaos