Some people can step out of bed, into a horrendous tracksuit, and still manage to look decent. For those less fortunate, mornings consist of alarms, shoddy breakfasts, and too much hair product. I am most assuredly of the second group as my second day of Ramadan tale will show.
The way things go at case de Nasiha these days is: 1) My vibrating cell phone alarm wakes me up but not my roomate. 2) I do the usual suhur (pre-sunrise meal), scarf a day old muffin I took from the cafeteria, get some fruit on the bottom action, and down a bottle of Dasani. Lastly, 3) I Pray.
The way things actually went at casa de failure yesterday was: 1) my vibrating cellphone woke me up. 2) I was like, "wha? who? no..." and went back to sleep. 3) My alarm for class woke me up and I said aloud, "oh merde..." - pardon my French. And, 4) I tried my best at damage control by eating the muffin, drinking the water, and making a good niyat (intention) for fasting.
The remainder of the day went smashingly, if by smashingly you gather intense sleepiness and a grumbling tummy. For iftar, I had leftovers from the first iftar and, an authentic fave straight from my mama, pulau. A normal night ensued, with a new - and not gonna lie - pretty intense episode of Project Runway.
Growing up in our family, Ramadan had better mean a damned lot, or else. And, for me, it does. Aunties raised me right, y'all.
Ramadan means eating too many samosas and never feeling guilty about it! But, it's also about forgetting all of life's usual distractions and simply trying to be better and learn a thing or two about self-control.
And so, the saga continues...
*Schiesse is a lively German word worth looking up and using in daily conversation.
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