|Hey, I like the blurred lighting effect. *smile*|
Okay, so earlier in the evening, after Thursday's taraweeh prayers, I set out to spend the evening at my newest favorite coffee shop in front of the sea. Mission accomplished; in part.
You see, I intended for the second part of my evening–err, morning–to be spent taking my suhoor at the same coffee shop; however, as in all things Ramadan (in most Muslim majority countries), schedules change, and I did not know the usual open 24-hours-a-day had been cut back to a closing time of 2:00AM. Suddenly I was frantic to save the two draft Ramadan journal entries I was trying to work on simultaneously (no, I have not gone back to read how I might have pulled that off!), grab my check and, well, check-out!
Laptop. Check. Power cord. Check. Mobile. Check. Mobile charger. Check. Reading glasses. Check. Prayer carpet (I had planned to pray fajr and watch the sunrise!). Check.
Next? The taxi.
Taxi flagged, I enter, tell the driver where I'm going and look down at my mobile. I had been expecting word from someone all day and night and was pecking away at the tiny onscreen keyboard spewing out a subtle (or not?) rant.
Suddenly I remembered there wasn't really anything interesting to eat in my kitchen! I look up from my phone to see where I am. Too late. Grr.
Glancing left and right I scout for any open eatery (not usually hard to find). At the point in the road where I know my options are completely running out, I spot a felafel shop. Great. I've been wanting to do something different with suhoor; this will work, insha'Allah.
The driver turns the car around in the direction of my outstretched arm and stops the car. I manage to communicate to him that I'd like for him to go into the shop to bring me a few items for suhoor. Al-hamdulillah, he understands. The shop was busy and the only customers were men, so I didn't want to go inside myself. I was grateful for the driver's service.
Felafel shop goodies in hand, the taxi arrives to my flat. I climb hurriedly up the building's front steps. I have exactly 40 minutes before the fajr adhan.
And, crazy me, I'm photographing everything all the time and it suddenly hits me that my mobile battery is nearly kaput. Grr, again! So I devise a plan based on the fact that it takes, what, like all of five minutes to actually eat, right?
I enter the flat and grab the mobile charger. Charging. Check.
I dash to the bedroom and peel out of my clothes to jump in the shower; hey, I have to keep my mind occupied while giving the phone battery time to charge; anyway, my hair needed washing. Shower finished. Check.
Turn on the hot water kettle for tea cinnamon-ginger tea (it helps with acid reflux, and I had a feeling I might be experiencing that after eating this suhoor...). Check.
Okay, arranging the photo-op. Great. This will give the battery more time to charge. Table set. Check.
Grab phone. Turn on camera. Bingo! There is enough charge to take a photo without the camera closing. Check.
Don't laugh, but the bread is three-days old and already suitable for use as a Frisbee; I just used it for decoration. Okay, I'll laugh. Check.
I have noooooo idea what the red, tomato sauce with what appeared to be shredded chicken mixed in it was supposed to be...but...whoa, it was baaaaaad! lol When I poured the contents of the dish down the toilet for disposal, it looked eerily like vomit. No lie.
Two pieces into the felafel and I had a sense of crunchy things being inside that didn't belong there. My stomach started to turn. Discard felafel. Check.
15 minutes to fajr. Check.
What to do?
The only thing salvageable was the potatoes. I race to the kitchen. I got this. No problem. Two eggs over easy coming right up! Check.
I sit down and start to eat. Grr. No toast.
Like, 8 minutes to fajr. How long does it take to heat up a piece of toast, right? Bread in toaster. Check.
Whew! Five minutes to fajr. Inhale eggs, potatoes, milk, water and tea. Suhoor down. Check.
Glancing up from my plate, what do I see? Sakinah (one of my cats) catching my attention with his earnest eyes and anxious meow.
Ugg. I forgot to bring tuna home from the market. Bad mommie. Check.
Subhan'Allah. This just solidifies my philosophy about eating. If it wasn't confounded, absolutely necessary, I could live without the headache. Check.
Confession. After this disaster I had to console myself with a chocolate pudding cup.
Al-hamdulillah, good news! The coffee shop will start serving suhoor on Sunday. Woot! Woot!
This is Aishah, checking out.