Saturday, April 13, 2019

Not Even This Can Sweep Mrs. HM Off Her Street

You know how when you're in a hurry, everything goes wrong?

Fridays are the only day I have any sort of time schedule. I have to get the boys' letters to the main post office over in Sis-Town by 11:30. That ensures The Pony of getting his letter in Oklahoma by the end of the week. Yeah. It DOES take an extraordinarily long time. Genius, on the other hand, will have his in Kansas City by Monday. Since he gets two scratchers every week, I don't want to disappoint him by being a day late.

I usually leave home around 10:20, and I'm at the post office shortly after 11:00. Yesterday, The Universe conspired against me.

I was up by 9:00. Plenty of time for medicine, HIPPIE computing, and shower. I already had my shopping list for The Devil's Playground. The boys' letters in their addressed envelopes, stamped. But I did have to fill out a deposit slip for the MoLottery checks from my big scratcher winner. And a deposit slip in The Pony's account, to put back the amount he'd used to pay his credit card (gotta build some credit before graduation).

Here's where things started to go south. I'd forgotten to make a copy of the MoLottery checks. I didn't have to, but I like to keep a record, for tax purposes. So that meant going down to my lair to the copier. While I was there, I noticed that my bag of trash was full, so I might as well take it upstairs. Farmer H leaves the trash dumpster at the end of the driveway, so I had to put the bag in T-Hoe, drive it up there, get out and put it in as I left.

I needed a ten to put in The Pony's deposit, so I went to the bedroom dresser to make change out of Farmer H's Storage Unit Store money. Except he'd taken it with him, hoping the weather would be good enough to sell. It wasn't. So I needed to stop at Orb K to break the twenty and get a ten.

There's road construction on the main route to the post office. It's been going on since last fall. Due to conclude this fall. Hopefully. So I've been taking an alternate route to avoid the stoppages and detours. This alternate route takes me by our new $5000 house, which is only three houses down from my old $17,000 house I bought before Farmer H and I were married.

Time was ticking. It was already 11:15 when I turned onto that street. Oh, no. There was a white truck in the middle of the road. It looked like an electric company truck, with a lift. That road is really narrow. I got around the truck. Went past the $5000 house. Started up the hill. Past my old $17,000 house.

OH NO! You've got to be kidding me, Universe!


It may be a neighborhood of $5000 and $17,000 houses, but let the record show that the street is CLEAN, by cracky!

Thank the Gummi Mary, that street sweeper made a left turn at the next stop sign. From there, it was only a block to the main post office. I pulled into the parking lot at 11:20.

Whew! That was a close one.

4 comments:

  1. Schedules must be kept! Even the self-imposed ones.

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  2. A little too close for my comfort, I would have been sweaty and jittery by then. I know myself well, so when I have a day of "get things done in order by a set time", I get it all ready the day before. Everything, ready the day before with a checklist to tick off as I do things.
    I didn't used to be the sweaty jittery type, that's a newish thing that comes from living surrounded by flats where unsavory people come and go at odd hours and there are shouting, swearing fights in the early am at least once a week.

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  3. Kathy,
    Yes, those boys depend on me! Though The Pony sometimes waits another week to check his mailbox. I can't believe he's not running out there every day to look for it!

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  4. River,
    My heart was racing, and I felt a little light-headed. Even with no dire consequences if I WAS late getting the mail sent. When I was working, I always had everything ready and laid out.

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