cupcake.jpg During the week, I never have my breakfast at home. I’m too sleepy to make my own food in the first one hour after getting up. The most I can do shortly after leaving my bed is to chew and swallow, and only in the case that whatever I’m swallowing has caffeine in it.
When I was putting my shoes on in the lobby today morning, I felt a distinct strawberry smell coming from the kitchen (its door stood wide open). There was nothing there to cause this smell.The jar of my favorite strawberry vanilla jam stood tightly closed in the fridge since Saturday, and there was nothing else “strawberry” there otherwise.
At that moment, I thought that it would be great to have some strawberry jam for breakfast. But I knew I had no chance, as this one and only coffee place near my office where I usually get my breakfast doesn’t sell anything like this, so the most I would get was the cheese sandwich. With the strawberry smell still tickling my nose, I left for work.
I got the usual coffee and cheese sandwich, took the elevator up to the office and set at my desk, looking forward to 10 minutes of browsing through the news and sipping my coffee before the day could start. These 10 minutes with my coffee and sandwich every day at my desk are my “French toast and fresh orange juice with today’s newspaper on a terrace” equivalent.
I had noticed it already before I had even set down – a small cupcake, so perfectly shaped and decorated that you would think it’s not for real, sitting on the desk of my colleague, just next to me. I’m actually not into cupcakes. The frosting is usually too buttery and the batter is too sweet for my taste. Nevertheless, I couldn’t but wonder how this perfection got here, within the gloomy office walls. Suddenly, out of the blue, my colleague just offered it to me. I tried to protest, but he said he was trying to go easy on sugar these days and just put in on my desk.
I thanked him, joking that now I’m going to become fat instead of him, and returned to my morning routine. At some point, it was clear that I couldn’t ignore that cupcake forever, so I decided to take a bite, just out of curiosity, keeping my expectations pretty low. Well, what should I tell you? The frosting was just buttery enough to give you that butter taste, but not at all greasy or heavy. Together with batter, it had a perfect sugar balance I wouldn’t add or remove a milligram of sweetness from. And the filling, well… it was strawberry jam.
Do you believe in coincidences? Like, when you meet somebody in the train you recently thought about. Or when you happen to switch on the TV to find out they are showing a documentary on exactly this thing you heard the first time of today and were curious to find more about? My personal explanation for this is, that you think about so many people, or you hear and wonder about so many things day after day, but nothing happens. You don’t remember this, because this is nothing special, this is how things usually are. Old friends don’t stalk you to take the same trains, and the TV guys can’t read your mind (yet). Besides, purely from a statistic perspective, if you’ve been throwing dices long enough, at some point, there will be all sixes. And this is what you will remember. So, all these coincidences are basically purely “coincidental”.
Well, this is what a mathematician in me will tell you. Nevertheless, there have been moments in my life when I couldn’t help but wonder whether there is somebody invisible out there watching me going through life, knowing my every thought, and from time to time, just because, giving me these little presents. Of cause, there has been no scientific evidence of it (NSA doesn’t count; besides, they just watch, and if they give you a surprise, it probably won’t be a good one). But in these moments I like to imagine that there is somebody out there whom I can’t see, but who sees me and decides to give me a strawberry cupcake to make it a bit easier. And suddenly, life feels much better.
P.S. And no, I won’t ask for three million dollars next time. A cupcake is enough.