Monday, February 17, 2014

Re-Entry

If you're looking for a profound, well-written, and insightful blog today, look elsewhere. I haven't got one.

It's a two-nap kind of day.

I got home from my Florida adventure late last night, exhausted in body and mind. I slept a lot down there--it was such a bummer, because the Olympics were on, but even if I willed myself to stay awake I usually couldn't make it past 9:30--but somehow the sleep didn't seem to take. It's true that the only two days I didn't wake at 6am I woke at 5 and 7, and it's true that I was more physically active than I usually am, and rode one or two horses reasonably hard every single day. But sheesh. The pros down there ride a dozen, most days, and then go out to the movies.

Anyway, I'm tired, and I had a wonderful time, and I'm loving being back home, too, not least because I got to see my beautiful husband, who did a hero's job taking care of things while I was gone. I'll be paying him back for that dang refrigerator for a long time.

(In an aside: since repairing the refrigerator cost 1/8th the price of buying a new one, we're definitely repairing it. However, we need parts, which won't come for 10 days. We're making do with one of those little college refrigerators. I'm telling you, when you're using them to store actual groceries instead of soda, beer, and leftover pizza, those suckers fill up fast.)

I was back in my minivan, in my hometown, running errands. I went to the library not so much because I needed something to read as because I longed to wander among stacks full of books. I read 2.27 (according to my Kindle) novels while I was away, and no non-fiction other than USA Today, and I am way book deprived. But the library was closed. I stood looking at the darkened doors, and an elderly man with a book in his hand came and stood beside me and looked at them, too. "I didn't think the library would be closed on President's Day," I said.

He shook his head bleakly. "I didn't even know it was President's Day."

Then I went on to Food City, and tried to balance the groceries I wanted to buy (all the fruits and vegetables! Fish! Yogurt and hummus and cheese! I have a kitchen to cook in again!) with what I reasonably could buy (no refrigerator!).  The usual Monday check-out clerk (no, I'm not making that up. Yes, I live in a small town) narrowed his eyes at me and said, "You look different. Your hair? No, that's not it. What's different?"

I said, "I have a tan. I've been in Florida," and he growled at me.

No comments:

Post a Comment

The comments on this blog are now moderated. Yours will appear provided it's not hateful, crass, or annoying--and the definition of those terms is left solely to me.