Mixed Bag

June 4, 2008 at 11:53 am Leave a comment

Until noon, yesterday seemed like it was going to be a great day. I’d had word of a minor work crisis the previous evening but didn’t pull open the laptop to a dozen frantic emails — a good sign. I finished up work on one project, scanned the weather and decided there would be enough time to wash and hang a set of sheets on the line and get them dried before the next threat of rain. I’ve found that line drying my wash and gardening have left me a bit divided in on myself — often simueltaneously hoping for and against rain. This spring so far has been fantastic tho — rains evenly spaced. Wonderful for the garden and okay for the wash also with careful planning.

I had just hung out the sheets and brought in a load of kitchen towels. I was thinking I had just enough time to catch up on the dishes from the previous night and have lunch, do a couple of minor errands and pick the Kid up from school.

Then an email came in from an unfamliar source instructing me to call her right away concerning the work crisis that suddenly was looking not so minor. She even included her mobile number. It seemed that she meant the right away part.

I called the numbers and left messages on both phones. But I’d hardly hung up from the last message when my phone rang with a callback. I spoke to the woman and answered her questions and agreed to put together some resources for her right away.

The rest of the day was one of those cascading blurs of stress. I just had time to get the materials prepared for the woman and jump into my car to pick up the Kid. No clean kitchen, no errands, no lunch. When I picked him up, we had to spend the next hour driving in to town where I hand-delivered the materials to the woman and then driving back home. On the way, we stopped at the X’s house to pick up the Kid’s baseball uniform. I was on the phone a half dozen times with the X as she was in a minor panic about a replacement hat for the Kid since we couldn’t find his official baseball hat. I finally had to cut a conversation short by telling her I had to get dinner together and would call her back. I don’t like to do that — both for the bumps it puts into our already bumpy road and for the stress it indicates in my life. But I turned back to the chicken salad, cornbread, and sauteed zucchini. Got it finished up and on plates and eaten. Then it was time to get the Kid changed into his uniform and on the way to his baseball game. As we drove over to the field it began to rain.

Unlike those major league guys, little league does not get called on account of rain (lightening yes, rain no). Fortunately I was able to score a parking place that offered me a good view of the field. So, I pushed back my seat, turned on the windshield wipers and pulled out my knitting. The Kid’s team lost by 2 runs. Since they are in tournament play they have started keeping score — something they avoided all season. The Kid was sad and requested a snack. If I’d been prepared, I could have provided a healthy and tasty and suitably treat-like alternative to fast food but (see above) I was not. So we stopped at a burger joint. I ordered him a chicken sandwich and a drink and myself a drink and we sat in the cool, conditioned air. He chowed down and cheered up — since we basically never go to fast food places it was quite a big treat for him — and I contemplated the expense, the waste, and simply the depressing, cold aspect of the place.

By the time we got home and the Kid had a very quick bath it was already way past his appointed bedtime. That wasn’t a disaster as bedtime is earlier at my house than at the X’s. But he was hard to wake this morning. And I woke in the middle of the night remembering one more task I needed to complete for my mid-day caller. I hope she is suitably impressed by an email with a 4am timestamp.

Now, I have two loads of unfolded laundry, a kitchen in complete disaster mode, a toilet that is still leaking from the tank bolt and the opportunity to make this a better day.


Entry filed under: Piedmont.

Working Day Carrboro Farmer’s Market

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