Thursday, August 02, 2007

My DayThus Far: By Jane

Molly and I got up relatively early this morning and hit the road for Starbucks by 8:30. We do the Starbucks trip every other day. When D is in charge, they do it every day: Grande Drip with room for cream and a Maple Nut Scone. They share it. Me, I'm not so generous. I do the Grande Drip, but not the scone. And the reason I go every other day? I only drink half the coffee. You know, there is really nothing wrong with heated up Starbucks the next day. You can trust me on that.

First stop: gas station. No problem.

Second stop: Starbuck's drive through. Very, very crowded. I listened to a program on organ harvesting on NPR. Very, very interesting. Gave my order, and decided to treat Molly to a shared Maple Nut Scone (she is definitely missing D). Waited for my order. Took my order, put the cup in the Very Inadequate Cupholder that my VW offers. Drove away. Stuck my hand in the bag to break off a piece of Maple Nut Scone. Broke off a piece of Oat Nut Scone--gag! Dry, tasteless, not worth the calories.

Third stop: Drove back to Starbucks and exchanged the scone. Drove away, again. Heard a popping sound: the coffee cup had flipped out of the Very Inadequate Cupholder and all the coffee was now sloshing around on the floor. Said fuck.

Fourth stop: Another Starbucks, closer to home. No drivethrough. Went in and ordered another Grande, etc. Mentioned in passing that it was my second of the morning and the barista handed me back my card. "It's on me," she said.

Drove home thinking warm and fuzzy thoughts about Starbucks. Pulled into garage. Exited car, carefully placing second Grande, etc. on a safe surface. Picked up clot of coffee-soaked napkins and keys in hand, went to throw them in the garbage.

Threw something in the garbage. Something that made a metallic sound when it dropped. Clot of coffee-soaked napkins still in my hand. Peered into the garbage can. Saw my keys lying in the garbage soup at the bottom.

Garbage can very, very big, i.e., deep. Not to mention very, very stinky. Can't reach keys. Curse D for not being there with his long arms to fish them out for me. Go into garage to see what is there that I can use to get the keys.

Passing by car on right side, see that I never refastened the gas cap. Have done all this motoring with it dangling outside the car. Flash on what might have been if I still smoked. Yeah, right....flash, indeed.

Get a wire hanger, open it up and, breathing through my mouth, lean into garbage can far enough to fish out the keys. Pretend I am doing it on Survivor. Get the keys. They are coated in something white. Don't look. Dump them in sink and run hot water. Will disinfect and think about them later, at Tara.

---some time later--

Clean off desk. Find bill for health insurance--due July 1. Wonder if I'll have to beg, or if I'll be forced to endure Kaiser. Blue Cross, bless their heart, is amazingly understanding and cancels my cancellation. I love Blue Cross. I tell them so.

It is now 3:06 and my day is only half over. What next, I ask you, what next?!

8 comments:

  1. I feel for you on the keys thing. Yuck. I've pulled that maneuver myself.

    Maybe you should start Molly on a diet of oat nut scones?

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  2. I walked by the Javalounge on 16th Street near X Street in Sacramento during my aftertoon walk Wednesday. Outside the store on the sidewalk was one of those chalk billboards that tout the day's specials. Writ large in multicolor letters was the message:

    IF YOU DRINK STARBUCKS COFFEE YOU SUPPORT SLAVE LABOR.

    I was on my way to Starbucks. There are four (not counting the Safeway outlet) within an easy walking distance of my office. I use them as convenient way points. The slave labor is always courteous.

    ReplyDelete
  3. queenofd: maybe...but they're dreadful.

    john: it wasn't only Starbucks that treated me well today; Blue Cross, too. I'm doing well with the capitalist pigs, aren't I. Btw, I heard you on the radio today...new gig? or am I always out of date?

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  4. Why do days that start bad like that have an avalanche effect?
    I don't have the answer but it seems to be the way it goes...

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  5. "Everything you send out is what the Universe recognizes as what you want and sends it back..." or something like that; I don't actually remember how it goes. Oddly, when I "tested" the theory - Lo and Behold! It's true (at least in my life)! That kind of explains that avalanche effect, anyway. Also explains my string of really, really good days after six months of downward spiralling, which is all I've got offer as proof.

    Mind you, if I dropped my Tim's® (Canuckia's answer to Starbuck's®), I imagine I might cry.

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  6. Oh I have cursed men-from-lives-past many many times when things go wrong and I must deal with them myself. So I completely understand. It's at these times that I have actually broken down.

    Also, I'm SOOOOooo scared that I will accidently let my keys slip down the garbage shute. I actually stop before I let go and think - where are my keys????

    The joys of being single.

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  7. Well, thank you for making us laugh uproariously at your expense.

    ...and since everyone else in getting in their MeToo's: I've only dropped my keys in the garbage once (while also trying to throw something else from the same hand and losing it all in the process). And this garbage can was not only deep, it was green and metal and square. It was the community dumpster in my condo garage. And it had not been recently emptied either, natch.

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  8. I feel your pain, I really do, but thank you so much for the "pretending you are on 'Survivor'" tip! I'm totally going to use that one the next time I have to de-insect the garage or clean up my children's bodily fluids!

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So--whaddaya think?