Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I wake up in my little pottery studio on Ha’atzmaut Street, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.
First off, I head to the market on Hatzvi Street. You know, the one with all the fresh produce and that guy who sells the best pomegranates? Yeah, that dude. I’m all set to grab some clay and maybe a snack. But as I’m walking, I trip over a loose tile. Like, c’mon! Yeroham, fix your sidewalks! I’m not trying to audition for a slapstick comedy here.
Anyway, I finally get to the market, and it’s packed. I mean, it’s like everyone in Yeroham decided to show up at once. I’m dodging strollers and old ladies with their shopping carts. I swear, one lady almost took me out with her cart. I’m like, “Lady, chill! I’m just trying to get some clay here!”
So, I grab my pomegranates and head to the pottery supply store on Hatzor Street. I’m feeling good, right? But then, I find out they’re out of the special clay I need. Ugh! I’m standing there, staring at the empty shelf like it’s the end of the world. I mean, how am I supposed to make my beautiful pots without my special clay? It’s like trying to bake a cake without flour!
I’m fuming, but I don’t wanna lose my cool. So, I ask the shopkeeper, “Yo, any chance you got more in the back?” He just shrugs. I’m like, “Great, thanks for the help, buddy.” I leave the store feeling like I just lost a battle.
But then, as I’m walking back, I see this street performer on Ben Gurion Boulevard. He’s playing the guitar and singing some catchy tune. I stop for a sec, and honestly, it’s like he’s casting a spell. I’m tapping my foot, and suddenly, I’m smiling. Like, how does this guy do it? He’s got a crowd, and everyone’s vibing. I toss him a few shekels, and he gives me a nod. That made my day a bit brighter, ya know?
So, I finally get back to my studio, and I’m ready to throw some pots. I’m feeling inspired, despite the earlier chaos. I start shaping the clay, and it’s like therapy. My hands are covered in mud, and I’m just lost in the moment. But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Avi. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the park! There’s a food truck festival!”
I’m like, “Food truck festival?!” I mean, who can resist that? So, I clean up, throw on some decent clothes (not easy when you’re a potter), and head over to the park. It’s packed! I’m talking about every food truck you can imagine. Tacos, falafel, you name it. I’m in heaven.
I grab a plate of the best shawarma ever. I’m devouring it like I haven’t eaten in days. And then, I bump into an old friend from high school. We start reminiscing about the good ol’ days, you know? The times we’d hang out at the Yeroham lake, just chilling and laughing. It’s wild how life brings people back together.
But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, seriously? I’m standing there, shawarma in one hand, trying to find cover. Everyone’s scrambling, and I’m just laughing at the absurdity of it all. I mean, this day went from bad to good to chaotic in a heartbeat.
Finally, I find shelter under a tree, and I’m just watching the rain. It’s kinda peaceful, honestly. I think about how life’s like that. Full of ups and downs, surprises around every corner. And here I am, a potter in Yeroham, just trying to make sense of it all.
So, I head back home, drenched but happy. I plop down on my couch, and I can’t help but smile. Today was a rollercoaster, but it was MY rollercoaster. And tomorrow? Who knows what Yeroham will throw at me next!