Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, Zarzir (il) is wild. I woke up, sun blarin’ through my window on Al-Mahatta Street. Thought it was gonna be a chill day. Boy, was I wrong! First off, I hit the stables. My horse, Thunderbolt, was actin’ like a diva. Seriously, he was prancin’ around like he owned the place. I’m like, “Dude, you’re a horse, chill!” But nah, he was all about that drama. I swear, if he could talk, he’d be like, “I need my organic oats, and I want them NOW!” So, I finally get him saddled up, and we head to the track on Al-Mansour Street. The crowd’s buzzin’, and I’m feelin’ pumped. But then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. Like, what the heck, Zarzir? I thought we were past this! I’m slippin’ and slidin’ in the mud, lookin’ like a total fool. Then, the race starts. I’m in the zone, man. Thunderbolt and I are flyin’ down the track. I’m yellin’, “C’mon, buddy! Let’s show ‘em who’s boss!” But halfway through, this dude on a flashy horse cuts us off. I’m like, “Are you serious right now?” I mean, who taught him to race? A blindfolded goat? I’m fumin’. I can feel my blood boilin’. But I push through. We’re neck and neck, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it! We’re gonna win!” But then, BAM! Thunderbolt trips over a puddle. I’m flung forward, and I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. I hit the ground, mud everywhere. I’m covered head to toe. The crowd gasps. I’m layin’ there, thinkin’, “Great, now I’m a mud statue.” But then, I hear them laughin’. I get up, all muddy and ridiculous, and I just start laughin’ too. I mean, what else can ya do? After the race, I’m walkin’ down Al-Jazeera Street, still covered in mud. I stop by my favorite café, Café Zarzir. I need a pick-me-up. I order a double espresso, and the barista, Samira, gives me this look like, “You good, bro?” I just laugh and say, “Yeah, just had a mud bath, ya know?” She cracks up, and I feel a bit better. We chat about the race, and she tells me about her cousin who’s also a jockey. Apparently, he fell off his horse last week and landed in a flower bed. I’m like, “At least you didn’t land in a puddle!” Then, I head to the market on Al-Mahabba Street. It’s packed! I’m dodgin’ people left and right, tryin’ to find some fresh fruit. I grab some oranges, and this old lady starts yellin’ at me for bumpin’ into her. I’m like, “Lady, I’m sorry! I’m just tryin’ to survive here!” Finally, I make it home, exhausted. I plop down on my couch, still smellin’ like a barn. I think about the day. It was crazy, emotional, and honestly, kinda hilarious. Zarzir, you never fail to surprise me. I’m ready for bed, but I can’t help but smile. Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows what’ll happen? Maybe I’ll win a race, or maybe I’ll just end up in another puddle. Either way, I’m in for the ride.