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📸https://muryou-aigazou.com/es
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It was a day like any other since I had moved. Finally, after wandering from place to place for a long time, I had gotten the job I wanted so much, which allowed me not only to pay the rent but also to save up for a small and, in my opinion, well-deserved vacation. And it seemed that on ordinary days like these, nothing could go wrong and that it was destined to be an uneventful and forgettable day like many others. I don't consider myself a pessimistic man, but if something can go wrong, it will go wrong, I learned that day.
I woke up on that warm morning to the deafening sound of my old alarm clock. It was so loud that it immediately gave me a headache. Although it wasn't the first time I had woken up to its racket and shrill sound, it was the first time it had given me a headache. It seemed like the alarm clock was angry with me for something I had done, perhaps angry for the times I had ignored it before.
I put all my effort into getting out of bed, which felt more comfortable and cozy with every passing second. I dragged myself to the kitchen and began to prepare my morning coffee on autopilot.
The first sign of a different day, the first sign that it would be anything but ordinary, the first sign that something would go wrong. I opened the plastic container where I kept my coffee and... no coffee, not a drop. Empty.
I didn't remember leaving it that way, and if I didn't have my morning coffee, I knew I would spend the whole day irritable and in a bad mood. A sigh of resignation ran through my body from side to side. I was ready to face the morning without my usual dose of caffeine.
It's okay, it's okay, I repeated several times to myself.
But I wasn't convinced. I couldn't convince myself.
In these cases, there was only one option: fill the caffeine void with a dose of a good, delicious breakfast. Let's not question my unhealthy methods and life choices, but a good binge always cheered me up, especially if it involved sweets.
I opened my fridge in search of that chocolate and some donuts that I had been hoarding. But when I opened the fridge, a strong stench hit me in the face.
What's the point of this... Why? How? Oh no, my fridge has broken down!
I thought about my vacation savings going down the drain, but most of all, I thought about not being able to have my candy binge anymore. All my food had gone bad, and I would have to throw it away.
A day like this can't get any worse, right?
It was time to go out. The good thing about going out at this hour was that the streets were empty, and I could stop at any café for a sip of caffeine and something tasty to eat.
Thank goodness it was Saturday. I couldn't have endured all this on a workday.
As I was going down the stairs, my T-shirt got caught on a nail sticking out of the door frame, tearing a big hole in it. I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself, even though it was my favorite T-shirt. So I went back to my apartment and put on a new one.
And we all know that there's nothing a pigeon loves more than leaving its heavenly message on a clean T-shirt.
Back to change again, this time with a question in my head: how much does a pigeon eat?
I went back downstairs, now with an expression of defeat on my face and a slow, listless gait. Everything was going wrong today, one thing after another.
But I kept going. Or rather, I dragged myself to the coffee shop.
When I arrived, I ordered a double espresso and two donuts.
But no.
It couldn't be.
It couldn't be.
Nooooooo!
I shouted.
The cashier looked at me in amazement at my cry of despair.
I left my wallet at home.
I couldn't imagine a more embarrassing walk than mine back home. No coffee, no food, horrible clothes, and a broken refrigerator that would take away my vacation funds.
I was a castaway adrift in the despair of what had turned from a normal day into a nightmare.
A morning that could have been beautiful in its simplicity turned against me.
It seemed like the world was determined to see me down today.
There was only one thing left to do, what any normal person would do in a situation like this.
Give up.
You won.
Murphy, you won. Murphy, did you hear me? You won! I shouted into the emptiness of my apartment.
As a last act of compassion for myself, I decided to eat some old cookies I had been saving for months.
And there it was.
An unopened package of coffee, stored next to the cookies.
I made myself a cup with a smile on my face and returned to the comfort of my bed.
Back in bed, I sighed and said:
I'm still alive. I'm still alive.
There are days when we don't get a break, when everything that can go wrong will go wrong.
Days when Murphy wins, but it's just one battle... not the war.
Note: Some events have been exaggerated, but this story is based entirely on reality.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
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📸https://muryou-aigazou.com/es
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Era un dĂa comĂşn como cualquier otro desde que me habĂa mudado. Al fin, despuĂ©s de mucho tiempo vagando de lado a lado, habĂa conseguido el trabajo que tanto querĂa y que me permitĂa no solo pagar la renta, sino ahorrar para tomarme dentro de poco unas pequeñas y a mi entender merecidas vacaciones. Y tal pareciera que en dĂas comunes y corrientes como estos nada podrĂa salir mal y que estaba destinado a ser un dĂa sin acontecimientos y olvidable como muchos otros. No me considero un hombre pesimista, pero si algo puede salir mal, saldrá mal, lo aprendĂ ese dĂa.
Me despertĂ© en la cálida mañana con el sonido ensordecedor de mi despertador antiguo. Sonaba tan fuerte que enseguida me dio dolor de cabeza. Aunque no era la primera vez que me despertaba con su alboroto y sonido estridente, sĂ era la primera vez que me provocaba un dolor de cabeza. ParecĂa que el despertador estaba enfadado conmigo por algo que le habĂa hecho, quizás estaba enojado por las veces que lo ignorĂ© antes.
Puse todo mi esfuerzo en levantarme de la cama, que se sentĂa cada segundo más cĂłmoda y confortable. Me arrastrĂ© hasta la cocina y comencĂ© en modo automático a prepararme mi cafĂ© matutino.
Primera señal de un dĂa distinto, primera señal de que no serĂa nada comĂşn, primera señal de que algo saldrĂa mal. AbrĂ el recipiente plástico donde guardaba mi cafĂ© y... nada de cafĂ©, ni una gota. VacĂo.
No recordaba haberlo dejado asĂ, y si no tenĂa mi cafĂ© matutino, sabĂa que pasarĂa todo el dĂa irritado y de mal humor. Un suspiro de resignaciĂłn recorriĂł mi cuerpo de lado a lado. Ya estaba preparado para enfrentar la mañana sin mi dosis acostumbrada de cafeĂna.
No pasa nada, no pasa nada - repetĂ varias veces para mis adentros.
Pero no me convencĂa. No era capaz de convencerme a mĂ mismo.
En estos casos solo habĂa una opciĂłn, rellenar el vacĂo de cafeĂna con una dosis de un buen y delicioso desayuno. No cuestionemos mis mĂ©todos poco saludables y mis elecciones de vida, pero un buen atracĂłn siempre me animaba, sobre todo de cuanta cosa dulce tuviera.
AbrĂ mi nevera en busca de ese chocolate y unas donuts que guardaba con recelo. Pero cuando abrĂ la nevera, un fuerte hedor me golpeĂł en la cara.
Pero qué sentido tiene esto... ¿Por qué? ¿Cómo? Oh no, ¡se me ha descompuesto la nevera!
PensĂ© en mis ahorros para las vacaciones esfumándose, pero sobre todo pensĂ© que ya no tendrĂa mi atracĂłn de golosinas. Toda mi comida se habĂa descompuesto, tendrĂa que tirarla.
Un dĂa como este no puede empeorar, Âżverdad?
Era hora de salir a la calle. Lo bueno de salir a esta hora era que estaba vacĂa y en cualquier cafĂ© podrĂa detenerme a beber un sorbo de cafeĂna y comer algo rico.
Gracias a que era sábado. No hubiese aguantado todo esto un dĂa de trabajo.
Bajando las escaleras, mi camiseta quedĂł atrapada en un clavo que sobresalĂa del marco de la puerta, abriĂ©ndose un gran agujero. No tenĂa tiempo para lamentarme, aunque fuera mi camiseta favorita. AsĂ que regresĂ© a mi apartamento y me puse otra nueva.
Y todos sabemos que no hay nada que ame más una paloma para dejar su mensaje celestial que una camiseta limpia.
De nuevo a regresar a cambiarme, esta vez con una pregunta en la cabeza: ¿cuánto come una paloma?
BajĂ© las escaleras otra vez, ahora con una expresiĂłn de derrota reflejada en mi rostro y en mi forma lenta y sin deseos de caminar. Todo salĂa mal hoy, una cosa tras otra.
Pero seguĂ. Más bien me arrastrĂ© hasta la cafeterĂa.
Al llegar, pedĂ un espresso doble y dos donuts.
Pero no.
No podĂa ser.
No podĂa ser.
¡Nooooooo!
Grité.
La cajera me mirĂł con cara de asombro ante mi grito de desesperaciĂłn.
Dejé mi billetera en casa.
No podĂa imaginar una caminata más vergonzosa que la mĂa de vuelta a casa. Sin cafĂ©, sin comida, con ropa horrible y una nevera descompuesta que se llevarĂa mis fondos de vacaciones.
Era un náufrago navegando atado a la desesperaciĂłn de lo que un dĂa normal se habĂa convertido en una pesadilla.
Una mañana que pudo haber sido bella en su simplicidad se volviĂł contra mĂ.
ParecĂa que el mundo estaba dispuesto a verme hoy por el piso.
Solo quedaba algo por hacer, lo que toda persona normal harĂa en una situaciĂłn como esta.
Darse por vencido.
GanĂł.
Murphy, ganaste. Murphy, Âżme oĂste? ¡Ganaste! - gritĂ© al vacĂo de mi apartamento.
Como Ăşltimo acto de compasiĂłn conmigo mismo, decidĂ comer unas viejas galletas que guardaba desde hacĂa meses.
Y ahĂ estaba.
Un paquete de café sin estrenar, guardado junto a las galletas.
Me preparé una taza con una sonrisa en el rostro y regresé al confort de mi cama.
De vuelta a mi cama, suspiré y dije:
Sigo vivo. Sigo vivo.
Hay dĂas donde no tenemos respiro, donde todo lo que puede salir mal, saldrá mal.
DĂas para que Murphy gane, pero es solo una batalla... no la guerra.
Nota: Algunos acontecimientos han sido exagerados, pero esta historia está basada totalmente en la realidad.
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