It’s Always Something

I mean, some days it truly is best to stay in bed. We were off to shop today. First the Contrarian had to run to Walker and pick up a tire that was being fixed. He got back in record time, put it on, and we were off. Now this trip for other reasons had already become a good deal less fun than I had anticipated. First we realized that we had no new tabs for the license plates yet. This was due to the fact of course that the snows had kept us in so long, and we had forgotten.

About the time that I realized we needed new tabs, which required a trip to the County building downtown, I realized that we also were past due for renewing our drivers licenses. That required a second stop. So the day was not starting well at all.

The Contrarian retrieved the license tab stuff from the car, and we opened it. Low and behold we could do it by internet and, and the and is very important, no penalty attached until June 2! Hurrah, no stop at the county building. So we proceeded to the driver’s license bureau. All went well for the Contrarian. I passed and was waiting, when, you guessed it–a problem. It seems that the DLB was now in computer intercourse with the Social Security Office, and my last name there was not the same as on my old Driver’s license. At first we were told I could not get my license, until I corrected my SS name, removing my maiden name to my married name.

Now I would agree that this was a problem, but for the fact that we have been married nearly nine years and I’ve gotten a renewal during that time. It seems this is all related to silly stuff about “homeland” security and I’m probably now on a terrorist list somewhere. This is of no import since I’ve been looking at websites throughout the Middle East the last few days, and am already on the list. I expect a Homeland Security agent to be knocking at the door any day now.

In any event, the lady at the DLB was nice and talked to a supervisor who agreed that I should get my license, but my records would reflect that I had been notified to correct my SS name before returning in 2013. Phew, one down and a dozen more stops to go.

We stopped at the “stuff” store, sorta like a Goodwill, to see if they had any chest of drawers. We found several, and a couple were most suitable, so we decided we needed to go no further, we could address this at a later date and pick one up easily enough.

Next stop, Lowe’s. I wanted paint for the Contrarian’s office, he needed a wheel for his wood cart. We got our stuff and got in the truck. Turned the key, and yep, you guessed it, NOTHING.  The Contrarian got out, under the hood and checked to see if some thingamajig was tight. It was, back in, NOTHING. A voice!!! “Need a jump?” “Yes, sir, we do,” replied the Contrarian. (I am already comatose with misery–NOT AGAIN, I silently scream.) Upshot, he gets it started.

Next door is Walmart. The Contrarian decides to go get gas, thinking the truck needs a bit more time to recharge. I go in and rush around like a madwoman, flinging food and whatnot into the cart at breakneck speed. I careen through the store in probably thirty minutes, cursing Walmartand their movement of things, I am looking for, everywhere but where I expect to find them.I curse them just because as well, for good measure. I get lucky (hah, I almost forgot how to spell that word) and got  a great checkout clerk for a change. Not one who asks me what a avocado is and then searches for three minutes on her chart. I am out the door.

No Contrarian can be found. i stand there. I look. I panic. I figure he’s somewhere with the truck which is dead and I’m going to grow old and die there. I hear a faint toot, toot. I can still see nothing that remotely looks like the ugly orange rusty truck I am hoping to get  home in. I tentatively move forward. Another woman queries, “Forgot where you parked?” “No,”: I retort, “My husband is supposed to be here somewhere, but I don’t see him.” We both wander slowly along, she looking for her car, me for the Contrarian. I am smug, at least I didn’t forget where I parked my car.

Finally as I proceed, all the time wondering why I am going down this aisle, I see him a block away at the farthest end of Walmart, backing up. You’ve been to Walmart, you know its a good mile from the front door. He backs to me. I start throwing bags into the back. He jumps out to help, the truck starts slowly rolling backward. “She’s rolling!” He jumps in and stops it. I finish the unpacking.

“Well, should we try for Fairway?” he ponders. “I need meat,” I mumble, my mind racing, confused and thoroughly spaced out from this experience. “I’ll hurry.” “Get me some Brach’swill ya?” he whimpers. “Sure.” He waits with the motor running, I rush in, and assault another store at breakneck speed. I’m getting good at this. The butcher walks up unknowingly. “A baby back rib, 2 center cut porkchops, 2 Iowa chops,” I spit out and continue down the line of the meat counter. “Three pounds of chuck, pound to a package, 2 New York Strips, a sirloin, cut in two and packed separately, a bone-in chicken breast, and two rear quarters. Oh and split the breast and package those separately.” Some how the dude knows I am not a woman to trifle with today.

In short order, my meat is in the cart and I’m headed to the cashier. “Not letting your husband buy all that candy today?” she innocently inquires. “No,” I reply, looking as pitiful as I possibly can. “Our truck is acting up and he can’t shut it off for fear it won’t start.” She rushes the cash register along as best she can. Two bags of meat and I’m out the door. It gets tossed in the back and I’m in. The Contrarian puts it in first, and IT DIES!!!!!! “RRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRrrrrrrrRRRchugchugthugchuggggging…It’s going!!!!! We don’t even stop for mail. We get in the lane at home and drive to the where he pulls it up to turn around and IT GETS STUCK!!!!!!!!!

That’s it folks. That was my day. And it was 12:30 in the freaking afternoon, and all that had already happened. I deserve  a pass don’t you think? I mean I deserve something. I been holed up in the meadow for months with only the shortest of reprieves to get a few morsels of food, and when it’s finally over, and its passably dry, THIS IS WHAT I GET????? Are you kidding me?

I should be a schizophrenic by now. I should be insane. I should be having a breakdown. Instead I’m pounding keys on a computer. Go figure. Oh, did I forget? Have a nice day!