Nothing was going to get me down yesterday. Nothing.
Driving with the windows open in mid November? Belting out the tunes? (My sincere apologies to anyone who may have heard—what can I say? Freedom of speech hurts sometimes, beatches! Yeah!)
Never mind the oddly temperate day with winter knocking on my door (Do you forget how cranky winter makes me? Please see …..It’s October. I have the heat on. Tell me again why I live here?….for your friendly reminder.) Sure, that alone would put a spring in my Borns. But my husband and I had just gotten over a vicious twenty four hour bug—and I was free from the bug that bound me!
(By the way, I’ll say only this and I’ll speak of it never again….if you want a glimpse into what hell looks like, try taking care of three little kids when both parents are down and out. At one point, it was every man for himself around here, and I stood convinced the inmates would be running the asylum by dinner time. With unlimited access to tv and party snacks, things looked dicey. Fruit rolls ups for breakfast? Vitamin C! Slices of cheese for lunch? Gotta get your calci-yum. But when the baby picked up the phone and tried to order out for pizza, I knew it was time to rally before DSS came a calling.)
So when I was sprung from this joint to forage for food at the crazier than crowded grocery store on a 60 degree mid November day, nothing was gonna get me down. When I walked up to the deli counter, and pulled a “91” from the ticket thingy and glanced up to see “Now serving….68”, I didn’t even flinch. I skipped away to grab some provisions and came back when they were closer to 91.
I should add I frequent this deli counter (where it is apparently roughly the same wait for a pound of cheese as it is to score playoff tickets), so I’m familiar with the usual suspects who work there. And apparently? They know me too.
Finally, they shout, “Nine-teee oneeee!” And I get all Horseshack in the sea of carnivores (Seriously. Did being a vegetarian ever look so good? Never seen a crowd like this around the tofu….) So the deli guy looks at me and says, “Whoa! You’re not looking too good today. Are you feeling okay?” Listen Garcon, more ham slicing and less editorializing. If you stopped trying to be Sam the butcher from Brady Bunch and stuck to the slicing and dicing, the line wouldn’t be 20 deep! Oy. Good help is so hard to find.
Why do I keep coming back here? First they call me ma’am, and then they say I don’t look good! (Please refer to….Would it kill you to card me? And for the love of God, stop calling me ma’am.) So what if they’ve been right both times—so not the point! Not the point. Not the point I said!
Down but not out, I grabbed my sliced meats and cheeses and split. I drove home with the windows open, grinning like I won the lottery and pulled up to the house to find my kids playing outside with my husband. I thought, “This is what it’s all about! Carpe diem and all that!”
But…I should have known….I DID win the lottery…..the virus lottery. How did I not think my kids would soon suffer a similar fate to their parents? (They looked so happy and rosy cheeked during my fall fun day yesterday, I refused to face the ugly truth it could “get” them.)
As I sit bleary eyed with my two sick kids after almost pulling an all nighter (It looked a helluva lot better on me at 20. And let’s face it, we can bank on it being three sick kids any minute now….I have one hold out and God love him for staying strong…but this thing is so bigger than him!), I can only look out the window and hope a day like yesterday will soon come again.
Yo, mother nature, are you listening? I faced down that deli line and I’m not afraid to go toe to toe with you either, missy!