Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk to you again.
This has been a weird-ass day and it isn't even NOON. I started the morning at Target, buying a birthday card for Ford's father. Ho-hum business as usual, but I did make a mental note of how Target seems so crappy to me these days. Just a cavernous wasteland of useless shit (and greeting cards). I used to love that place! I'm older and wiser now, and have stopped giving a fuck about most things, so the merchandise isn't attractive in a way that it was back when I enjoyed consuming. More than that though, Target really does appear to be full of ugly, low-quality shit. Maybe it always has been.
Anyway, I'm leaving Target, in the parking lot, and the parking lot was fucking BUSY at 9 AM. People, apparently, having some shopping to do. I'm cruising down the lane in between parking spaces (is there a word for that? can't think of one) and this woman backs out in front of me without looking, so I just keep going. Like, i was gonna stop, but not before I exhibited a little asshole behavior, because she motherfucking started it. She sees me, stops, and HOOONKS, honk honk honk, and gives me the finger. Oh, she was pissed! I just smiled calmly and waved. I could tell she was cussing at me, although I couldn't hear it.
I know I was being reckless, but...sometimes I just need to feel alive, you know? Years of living with Ford (KING of road rage) has given me license to do this. It isn't healthy, but nothing good ever is.
So, I head on to the post office, feeling a little buzzed from my self-induced parking lot altercation. Phone rang, it was Ford.
"Where are you!"
"About to mail the card."
"Go Home! Lock the doors! There's an active shooter!"
There's always active shooters, we're living in a boring dystopia. I'd already heard about this one, it was downtown, I felt pretty safe and I still had post office business to transact, and then groceries to buy, but I promised him I'd remain alert.
Then, I'm shopping for bulk spices (dried mint specifically, it goes on this Turkish egg dish we're into lately). As I finish up with the herbs, I grab my phone from the countertop and shove it in my pocket. A few minutes later I'm looking for a fresh baguette (all fucking stale) and the phone's vibrating in my pocket. Pull it out, and What? Why is there an attractive black woman on my phone? Who's Gina? Calling me from DC? WHY IS MY PHONE IN A PURPLE CASE? At that point I'm just plain rattled.
I felt like I'd completely dissociated from life. Whose phone was this? Why was it in my pocket? Where was I? WHO AM I EVEN.
I finally realized it was someone elses phone so I headed to turn it in to customer service, but I was shaking. It took me a minute to figure out that I must have grabbed it off the spice counter when I was getting the dried mint. JESUS.
I paid for my stuff and went out to the car and just had to sit there for a few minutes. Then, I looked carefully both ways, backed out, and drove home.
So yeah, I am old, and getting senile, and am a bitch, and reckless, and should probably just never leave the house.