The Universe Works Overtime To Conspire Against Mrs. HM

It was one of those days. The days when you have a specific plan, and all goes awry. It was Friday, when Farmer H was having the battery of his bladder wire inserted under the skin of his right rumpus. First cat out of the bag, on Implant Eve, the hospital called to take his pre-op info, and announced that his surgery would be at 7:00 a.m. 

 

Well! That was quite a change, since all his discharge paperwork from two weeks previous said it would be at 2:00! So... Farmer H sent a text to The Pony, informing him that he would now need to be at the Mansion, ready to leave by 5:00 a.m. to get to the hospital by the 5:30 check-in time, rather than noon for the 12:30 check-in time they had planned on.

 

Of course that didn't affect ME, except for The Pony wanting a wake-up text between 3:00 and 3:30 a.m. He takes long showers! Since I'm up anyway, it didn't matter. I figured as soon as they left the Mansion at 5:00, I would go to bed and sleep a few hours, then go to town to mail Genius's letter, which I had forgotten to take along on Thursday. The mail goes out at 11:30. My plan was to leave at 9:30, and also stop by the store on my way home, and be back by the time The Pony arrived with my patient.

 

"Au contraire," said Even Steven.

Oh, I left home at 9:30. I took the closest route to the bank, to withdraw the rest of Farmer H's money that was in the check from Back-Creek Neighbor Bev that I had deposited on Thursday, getting half his money back. There was a flagman stopping traffic so a crew could put in giant metal poles to replace the wooden poles holding the electrical wires.

Right after I got past that roadblock, The Pony texted me that FARMER H WAS BEING RELEASED, and he was driving around to pick him up! I tried to send a text, but even in the midst of town, my phone disagreed. 

At the bank, only two cars were ahead of me. I thought I might actually make it back home shortly after The Pony and Farmer H arrived, and that I could chat with The Pony. However...

I waited in line 10 minutes. Then as I left, taking the back alley to avoid traffic at the stoplight by the exit lane... I came upon the garbage man in the alley:

 

I couldn't back up and negotiate the curve back into the bank lot, which would only have made me use the exit lane at the light anyway. So I waited. It took that guy forever.

 

He was working alone, and had to drag that giant dumpster back into its brick hideaway when finished. I'll be danged if he didn't STOP TO BACK IN CROSSWAYS at the stop sign on the other side of the church. That's the church whose steeple was struck by lightning a while back. Anyhoo... I took a short cut through the little parking area beside the church that the bank rents for its workers to park. So I got out on the road from the bank entrance, which gives more room from the stoplight traffic.

I'd finally gotten a text to The Pony that I was being delayed, and would get there as soon as possible to relieve him of the patient. I told him I was skipping the store trip, and only finishing up my business in Sis-Town. Then it was on to the Casey's, where the entire population of Sis-Town decided they needed to be at the very moment I arrived:

 

That lady behind the counter talking of the phone was not ringing up any customers! I'm not even sure she was talking to an actual person. She maybe only uttered one sentence. The other guy was out on his break, smoking. I saw him on the sidewalk as I went in. So it took a long time to buy my scratchers. In fact, I had half a mind to walk out, but I'd already parked and hauled myself in, and waited through half the line. Good thing I stayed. I got a $60 winner.

Back outside, having been rung up by the man while the woman still stood with the phone, avoiding eye contact... I saw that I was the victim of a close-parker!

 

Lucky for me, I'd snagged the space next to the handicap walkway (though the actual handicap parking space was on the other side of it). So I didn't have to wait for the close-parker to leave in order to get T-Hoe's door open. I don't know how the close-parker got out of his truck! Maybe from the passenger side? Maybe he was a stick-man? He had to fold in his mirror to even park there! If you look closely in the mirror, you can see how tight the space was between us. And I didn't even cheat over! I was squarely in my space, not needing to cheat, what with the striped handicap walkway abutting T-Hoe's driver's door.

From there, I mailed Genius's letter at the drive-thru mailbox at the edge of the post office parking lot where The Pony fell down the faulty-railed metal steps of the loading dock. Then went to the School-Turn Casey's for other scratchers. All the spaces were parked in, so I had to go around the block. By this time, I had called The Pony, who was leaving the Mansion, what with Farmer H saying he was DRIVING HIMSELF to the Senior Center for a fried-fish lunch. Upon trying to get out on the main road from the Casey's side street, my view of the four-way stop was blocked by a giant camper:

 

Just as I was ready to pull out, a car would come barrelling from the stop sign, making me jam on the brakes and wait. After 6 or 7 false starts, I made my getaway. Since there was no longer any urgency, I stopped by Country Mart anyway for some sale meat to grill for the Labor Day holiday.

But I forgot the ice cream, which was one of the main items I went for, Farmer H having procured some good-enough medicine, and wishing to resume stoking his sweet tooth.

Quite an exhausting day. I might as well have slept in, and mailed that letter at my leisure,