THINGS TO DO LIST:

1.  GO SHOPPING FOR BABY SHOWER GIFT.

2.  GO HOME, EAT, READ, WATCH TV.

NEW PLAN!

1.  Leave work.  Hear bad noise.  Immediately blame bad pavement. 

2.  Pull over.  Find flat tire on smooth road.  Sigh.

3.  Utilizing Bluetooth, call AAA.  Request assistance.

4.  End call and note ‘phone about to die’ warning.

5.  Turn off Bluetooth.  Notify husband.  Notify daughter who was waiting to shop.  Secretly rejoice that you have legitimate excuse to not cook dinner.  Ponder:  take out or dine in?

6.  Try to enter place of work, which is a school during the summer.  Abandoned except for custodial staff who are nowhere near a door. 

7.  Circle building, banging three times on every door and window just to verify that no one hears you.

8.  Hear bad noise and turn to the street.  Was that a truck or lightning?

9.  Return to car to seek shelter from impending storm.

10.  Open windows to capture breeze.

11.  Try to use laptop on someone else’s wireless.  Password required everywhere.

12.  Decide to update THINGS TO DO LIST in notebook.  Realize notebook is home.

13.  Start writing blog on laptop using Word. 

14.  Notice nearby bolts of lightning on thundering thunder.  Watch wildly gyrating power line in front of car.  Think about this afternoon’s workshop on how tornados form.

15.  Raise windows to block sudden downpour.

16.  Alternate writing with checking rearview mirror for tow truck whose driver is probably not in a hurry to hitch up a car in an increasingly violent storm.

17.  Receive call from tow truck driver who says he will be here in 20 minutes even though he reports being in Laurence Harbor during rush hour,during a storm, putting him more than 20 minutes away.

18.  Note abating rain.  Lower window to cool off increasingly warm car.

19.  Abating rain lasts 20 seconds.  Deluge continues.  Start car and air conditioning.

20.  Worry that phone will go dead before tow truck gets here.  Worry that laptop will go dead leaving me with no entertainment.  Think about how long ago lunch was and how far away dinner will be.  Fantasize about iPhone 5.  It will not discharge after 8 hours.  It will not shut down if I use the internet.  It will not be available for three months and my current model is going dead in my time of need.

21.  Find a comfortable position in which to play Minesweeper.  Somehow manage to miss the big flatbed towtruck in front of me until the driver knocks on my window.

22. Haul my 5 foot 2 self into the front seat of a truck built for a person approximately the height of a professional basketball player.  Chat with Bob the Tow Truck Guy who is exceedingly nice and earned himself straight A’s when AAA calls to survey my customer satisfaction level.  It is impossible to not love a guy who actually shows up on time in a storm and hitches up a van in three minutes or less while I wait up front perfectly dry.

23.  Get myself and my car driven to local STS where I am informed that it’s quittin’ time and they’ll take my information now and fix it in the morning.  I am now stranded.

24.  Call Karen and ask for a ride.  And invite myself to dinner.  And to sleep over.  After she brings me to Walmart to buy a clean shirt and some basic toiletries.  And possibly drive me to my morning class. Thank you Karen.  

I Want To Be Buried In It

I'm sitting in Panera trying to figure out what to blog about. A blog is an essay written to be shared with the world. It should be thoughtful, intelligent, and relevant.

As I sit here wishing I'd maybe watched the news this week so I could be thoughtful, intelligent, and relevant, the most brilliant observation I can come up with is that there's a well-dressed, impeccably coiffed older woman at the table in front of me. Her pale pink sweater set is accented with a strand of thick pearls. Her black and red lumberjack jacket doesn't match her outfit. In fact it doesn't match her. So much for intelligent commentary.

And this from a 50 year old woman in black sneakers and a thermal hoodie! I suspect that at some point before my death I should start dressing beyond what I might have worn in junior high. But I went through a lot of trouble to keep this hoodie, so I might just put in my will that I wish to wear it to my funeral.

Somewhere in my early 20's I acquired a burgundy thermal hoodie. I know it wasn't mine originally, and I can only assume that it belonged to my husband until I permanently borrowed it. It hung in my closet for so long that no one has any recollection of it belonging anywhere else or to anyone but me. It happily resided with me until one dark and stormy Halloween season weekend several years ago when we and some friends went to Salem to be the only people touring the attractions in the torrential rains. Utterly soaked through at the end of the day, I hung the beloved garment in the hotel room closet to dry. We were only staying the one night so I didn't bother putting anything else in the closet and I accidentally abandoned it there. In the ensuing days I searched high and low through dirty laundry and clean. I emptied drawers and scoured the deep recesses of closets until the truth hit home. I tried calling the hotel, but they knew nothing. Bereft without my perfect sweatshirt, I began to search the stores. Wrong color. Not thermal. No hood. No zipper. Then I found it in the men's department at Walmart, between the denim work shirts and the carpenter's jeans. I found and purchased my holy grail without even consulting a price tag!

Sitting here this past hour, I have not thought anything coming close to intelligent, but I have made a decision. The lady in pink and pearls with lumberjack plaid is my unmatched hero. If she wants to wear pearls and flannel, fashion pundits be damned. It is her God-given right. And I am wearing my hoodie to my funeral.