Today was one of those days, where you know you can look back in a few weeks and laugh about what happened, but now is way too soon. Today I woke up, and again, feel like death. I delay getting up and doing anything about it for a few hours, then comes the coffee, the instantaneous motivator.
On Saturday mornings there is the biggest farmer's market, in the whole city, a few blocks from where we live. I unfortunately have to miss out on fresh produce this week because I have to make a run to the grocery store for cold medicine, before work. I start laundry, and head out on my mission. I come back victorious, or so I thought, and before my laundry was even ready to go to the dryer. I walk back to the garage to take my cold medicine while I wait and to my horror, the cold medicine is not in the bag. I check the receipt to find I wasn't billed for the medicine.
Furious, I head back to the grocery store. My life now is still very tied to country living, as I am constantly comparing that way of life to the way I live now. This is usually my defense mechanism for stressful situations. I thought about how far away the closest grocery store was to some of the places I've lived in Maine and New Hampshire. The house I grew up in, in Barrington, New Hampshire, was a good 15 minutes away. If this had happened there, I would have easily spent an additional 40 minutes, trying to fix the error and get on with my day. So I keep this thought in the back of my mind and continue with a positive outlook. I get a great parking spot in the store's lot and I walk back to the line I waited in previously. The clerk doesn't pay me any mind. As the customers ahead were being helped I noticed the little box of store brand DayQuil, sitting by the cash register. Once it is my turn, I point to the box, and tell the clerk that I came back for my medicine. I guess he didn't see the box on the three foot conveyer belt and it was left behind. As he rang me up he told me that he didn't see it at first but then he thought I left it to the side because didn't want it anymore. I looked him dead in the eye, the base of my nose as red as a fire engine, and asked him "Does it look like I don't need cold medicine anymore?". Not my proudest moment. He mumbled some sort of apologie and I told him that I just wanted to pay and get it out of there.
When I got back I had a Belgian waffle waiting for me, as Sam had gone to the market for breakfast. Once I had medicine in me and was feeling slightly better, it was time to get ready for work. I managed to take breaks for homework and before I knew it I was out the door.
"I looked him dead in the eye, the base of my nose as red as a fire engine, and asked him "Does it look like I don't need cold medicine anymore?". Not my proudest moment."
ReplyDeleteThere! That's your ending, that's what it all builds to--don't fall into the trap of completism at the expense of the storytelling. Serve the steak, skip the parsley.