I didn’t write earlier today because I was expecting — not a child, because this isn’t the Bible and I’m not Ruth expecting Baby Ruth. Or wait. Was it Sarah who had a baby when she was old? Someone did. Some chick of old. It’s been a long time since I was in parochial school.
Anyway I didn’t write earlier because I was expecting work. And I wanted to get started on it early, so I IGNORED this blog and went straight to work but then the work wasn’t there and it wasn’t there and it wasn’t there and I was like Sarah Ruth expecting that baby and getting on my donkey and heading to Ye Olde CVF for pregnancy tests.
Remember how old printing presses used to use Fs for Ss? That was the joke, there. Like it was the CVS of biblical times.
Headed to CVF for a Last Response Pregnancy Test. Cause they weren’t that good back then, see.
I should just give up.
My point is, I did all sorts of other work today to clear out my schedule for the thing I was expecting and now that I am not getting what I was expecting, the afternoon
before me, so here I am writing my blog.
Yesterday I got up and wore clothes and got in the car and did all sorts of before-times things that I don’t normally do.
My laptop, generously provided to me by the good folks at my job, was wearing out. First of all, the A key was all faded, and I don’t know why the A. Am I The Fonz? Do I type a lot of aaaaaaaaaa? I don’t know. But that’s the key that suffered.
This was no big deal. But what WAS a big deal were the keys themselves, particularly my shift key, wasn’t working, so lots of what I would type would be in lowercase and I thought it wasn’t a big deal but it turns out that’s a sign your laptop is wearing out so I brought mine in to work and IT transferred everything to this here new-ish laptop that I have today.
Edsel didn’t even know what to make of me leaving the house without him. Now that we’ve been together this much, I was 99% certain he understood me when I said I’d be back in an hour or two.
Then I drove to work and got a good spot in the parking lot, and right there’s your silver lining. I walked into the dark room that is my workplace. I opened the door and didn’t see all the people.
My office is an old mill, so it’s got huge open rooms and several floors, and yesterday there was no one on my floor at all. On my way to my desk I heard “squeak!!” and I know it was a mouse. You can’t blame him. I’d be hanging out there, too.
My calendar still read February. I toyed with taking it down but I figure it’ll be more dramatic to do so when I return for real. I sprayed on some of my perfume I have at my desk. Then I headed upstairs to where IT is.
There was just one IT guy there, and he put on his mask as soon as he saw me. We had to work together for a bit so he could get all the info off my old laptop and put it on the newer one. But then there was going to be 45 minutes where everything was Manhattan Transferring. “You can hang out if you want,” he said, but clearly he does not know me.
“I’ll just come back,” I said, and headed to the mailroom to get my package. I’d accidentally ordered something to come to work.
As I made my way to the mailroom, I thought, “This is why you got so fucking fat.” Because seriously, my workplace is giant, and we have three floors you have to traverse via stairs, and usually during the workday I’d do that all the time. It’s easier to just run upstairs to ask someone something rather than send a dumb email.
But now for the past year, all I’ve done is sit in this 999-square-foot house where I only get up to let the dog out or what have you. I guess this explains my appearance, which can only be described as squishy.
Speaking of which, since I was out, I decided to stop off and see the fine people of Sonic. It’s near work and I never get there anymore as that would require getting up off this chair. As you know, from your Big Book of June Events, I enjoy the Sonic chili cheese dog. And here’s my problem. I mean, beyond my cholesterol.
My problem is they never add the onion or mustard. Which, why? So yesterday I said, “Yes. I’d like the chili cheese dog with onion and mustard, please.”
As I was paying, I got a message from IT that my laptop was ready. So I screamed back there as soon as I could.
“Now, can you log in and…” began the IT guy.
“Do we have to do this together?” I asked. First of all, COVID, and second, I had a chili cheese dog.
“Oh! I don’t want to stand in the way of you and your chili cheese dog!” he said. “No; you can do this at home!”
So I screamed to my car, screamed home, brought in my purse/keys/laptop/draaaank/bag of fries/chili cheese dog/box from mailroom OH MY GOD but I was finally inside without dropping anything.
I was so dying to get to the chili cheese dog, and I ripped open the packaging like it was a bodice and I was Mandingo, and?
No chili. They gave me a hot dog with mustard and onion.
WHY DID THEY THINK THAT’S WHAT I WANTED? OH MY GOD.
So that was severely disappointing.
At the end of the day, and I’m not one of those dreadful people who is using that term to mean, “ultimately.” I mean literally my workday was done. And at the end of it, Ned called.
Ned bought a 2008 Mustang at the end of last year, and I refused to ride in it until two weeks had passed because he’d test driven and done paperwork with some car dealer and I didn’t want to hold him in my armchair so I could feel his disease. But finally the two weeks were up and Ned wondered if I wanted to ride in his car with him. So I said yes to the man. (Name that movie.)
You shoulda heard old Ned roaring up to my house. Good gravy. I got in his car and saw my neighbor, so I waved.
“I wonder if the neighbors think some new dude is squiring me about town, what with this new car and all.”
“They think I’m a whole new man. I’m going to introduce myself as someone cooler. Colorado Nickerson. ‘No, I’m not Ned Nickerson. I’m Colorado. Colorado Nickerson.'”
Colorado and I drove around this loop that takes you all around the city, and you know I’m indifferent to cars, so I didn’t ask that many questions about it. What I did ask was, “Can we go to CVS? (Not CVF.) I have GERD from my non-chili, non-cheese chili cheese dog.”
So we roared into CVS so I could get Prilosec, and I’m sure everyone was impressed with how cool we were. Look at the indigestion on that cool duo!
Finally, we got back to my house, and Colorado Nickerson dropped me off. He was in a hurry because some stupid basketball game was on and I’m so glad to not have any testosterone. I mean, I guess I have some, right? But like one teensy speck of it that comes out when people type apart when they mean a part.
When I got inside I was finally able to take off my pants, pants I’d been wearing all day, and frankly I can’t believe I went so many decades just … wearing pants. They’re so cumbersome and awful. I guess this is why Edsel gets that dreamy look when I scritch him under his collar. Like, you don’t even know you’re uncomfortable till you find something more comfortable and say, Wow, that was awful and I didn’t know it.
So that sums up yesterday and for me it was pretty people-y. Now I gotta sit here and wait for symptoms.
New Hampshire Gardens