I’ve been a little off-kilter emotionally the last few weeks, not in the least due to all the existential angst I’m now feeling about my work.
Yesterday the angst continued, compounded by the fact that I was one of only two people who signed up to bring a meal to a lovely young couple with a new baby. This, in a large congregation of very well-off families, including many women who don’t need to work outside the home. C’mon, people. You can do better than this.
So this morning I piled a meal into my car, transferred it to a fridge at work, piled it back into my car at the end of the day, and drove almost half an hour to the home of the young family in question. Tiring, but totally worth it. Because BABY!
Headed home, and was a block away from our house when a runner, coming up the street, suddenly turned and ran across the road right in front of my car. No hesitation, no eye contact, nothing.
Having almost been forced to commit vehicular homicide was simply the last straw. I didn’t quite cry, but I was close.
Pulled into my driveway, gathered my stuff from the back seat, and realized that part of the meal I’d delivered (a corn casserole, to be baked after delivery) had dribbled all over the back seat and onto my jacket. Another straw AFTER the last straw. Unbelievable!
I managed to curse only very quietly, under my breath, as there were children playing in the driveway next door. Went inside and calmly asked The Husband (who doesn’t work on Mondays) if he would please consult with me on the best way to get the food mess off the seat.
Here’s where he redeemed himself, after Sunday’s inexcusable offense.
“I’ll get it out for you,” he said. “Just go inside and relax.” Oblivious Man had actually picked up on my exhaustion and frustration.
I didn’t go inside and relax. Instead, I changed into sweats and went for a walk, knowing the fresh air and exercise would be much better for me than a lie-down. But his suggestion and his help were very welcome.
I may let him continue to live in this house.