Monday, March 30, 2009


I don't believe in astrology. I don't believe in phases of the moon and positions of the stars to influence our behavior. And I only rarely will pause when a black cat crosses my path, or I have to walk under a ladder, or I step on a sidewalk crack.

But I swear that there are universal 'bad' days.

(Well, not actually universal, because life forms in the Alpha Centuri quadrant may be experiencing an excellent day, but the word 'planetary' just doesn't look the same)

These are the days when everyone seems to be in a rush - angry about some inner demon - grumpy - can offer only extremely forced smiles. Drivers won't yield, horns are blown, rude hand gestures are exchanged.

So the bad moods compound; you're madder because the traffic was horrible, so you are less patient waiting at the pharmacy, and then when that *@^$%!( cuts in front of you at McDonald's.... it becomes contagious.

My morning was actually going great; I was home ALONE (I just love solitude), getting a lot of things done (to include finding out how incredible Pandora radio is, surfing the Internet and scratching my horse's belly - important stuff like that), and just enjoying the day.

My middle child had talked me into picking her up after work (2 p.m.) and treating her to a late lunch, so I drove into town and actually got there on time (not a normal thing for me), and I parked to wait for her.

Sitting with the windows of my truck down, enjoying a brisk breeze, just waiting all mellow (great old Elton John song for you true fans out there)....

First hint of how the day was being carved out was by a couple of cars fighting over an empty parking spot right in front of my parking spot.

Although, as always, there were a horde of opening spots just a short walk away, this empty spot suddenly was the most important thing in the world for both of these drivers. Blood would be shed - honor was at risk - we will DIE for this parking spot.
Right in the middle of watching this face-off (of which the smaller red car won, to my personal satisfaction), my daughter called, more than slightly hysterical - she was having to WORK THREE MORE HOURS. So instead of a three hour shift, she was
working six. Which she would begin after a break - and a meal.

Yeah, tough.

So I went over to the pharmacy to pick up some scripts for my husband and one for me, to be certain that this trip was not a complete waste.

Hmm... a line of people waiting, including one handicapped cart stopping all possible traffic passing by... overworked pharmacists... we can't find your prescription... oh, we do have your prescription but the insurance line is blocked and we can't get approval for it... can you come back in an hour?

Sure, sure, I can go shop. I can waste time very easily... when there is a Target, Staples and WalMart (last choice) within walking distance. Even if I don't have any extra money, I am an expert at window-shopping (boy, what an old expression - who shows things in windows anymore? Really - when was the last time you actually looked in a window to see a display?)

And is it just my imagination, or do there seems to be a large percentage of crying children - fussy babies - irritated checkers - people rushing?

I go back to the pharmacy - whoops, now, where did the three scripts disappear... AGAIN. I took pity on the young tech and said, don't worry, I'll ask my husband to pick them up after work.

I do my standard when-I-go-into-town-I-get-a-Dairy-Queen-medium-vanilla-ice-cream-cone. It's such a regular thing that, I swear, they see my truck pulling up to the window and they have my cone ready for me.
Look in the dictionary under the word "predictable" - there is a photo of me.
But, hey, guess what - there is a line. With cars containing people who are not happy with their order - who want more napkins - who spill their drinks...

The negative emotions were spreading out in waves; like the dipped chocolate shell which immediately hardens and begins to slip off the ice cream onto either onto your hand or just touching every piece of cloth in the vehicle.

Driving home, middle child calls AGAIN - now in tears while being apologetic about previous behavior. I am trying to talk calmly, rationally... while trying to eat an ice cream cone, hold a cell phone, and drive a stick shift.

Final straw of the day - husband gets home after going through similar interaction at pharmacy, but has reacted more violently... hit some things, kicked some other things, and almost physically hurt someone. Did recognize it, asked for shrink appointment, and additional sleep meds.

Can we get a rubber room for everyone in the world, please, especially for me?