Don’t tell my wife. Shhhhhhh. I have nothing to pay you off with, but we can reach some kind of deal. I promise.
(News flash — WP blogger found bludgeoned to death by crutches. Traces of Angry Bird fleece pajamas were found at the scene)
I have ventured out of the house, much to the chagrin of Mir, if she should find out. My plan is to enjoy my fresh cup of dark roast here at one of the many local Starbucks in my area. It’s the largest one, so I figured I would not make too many people uncomfortable being too close to them in my Angry Bird pajamas, black/orange Adidas (one, of course) and white tee shirt. Unfortunately, the crowd this time of day is very “professional”, so I am sticking out like a sore angry thumb.
* There is the willowy blonde sitting at the table across the room, sunglasses perched on her head, busily working on her laptop in black and white business dress. I should admit that I was happy to have found a comfortable seat within glancing room of her. That’s creepy, I know, but I am totally harmless.
* There is a group of engineering type young people who look to be holding a business meeting here — very much up to today’s practices. This is the corporate corridor close to where I live, along I-88 west of Chicago, so it’s not surprising to see business types here. There are several mid to upscale business hotels close by.
* There are two women at a table with their laptops who must be holding a Mary Kay sales territory meeting. They both look like they just stepped out from behind a department store makeup counter. They are working hard, so they must be serious about their cosmetics.
* A guy is sitting at a table by himself, tie and perched sunglasses in place, spending more time glancing around the room than he is doing whatever he is supposed to be doing. It was interesting how he tried to ignore one of the cosmetics ladies as she invaded his space. Apparently her laptop battery was in the wane (ooooo… I said “in the wane”).
* Three guys will cool eyeglasses are passing around papers to each other and talking about their software. Sales, apparently. One guy has really cool glasses, glasses my wife and daughter would make me return to the store if I came home with them, and he is trying to hide his balding with lots of gel that makes his hair stand up. My hair was doing that by itself this morning, since I spent most of yesterday sleeping, not bathing. I almost left my hair that way. Bedhead is cool, right?
* Business blonde is now talking on her cell phone and leaning into her laptop. She’s not smiling, so it must be business. Come to think of it, I haven’t caught her smiling since I began my creepy observation of her.
* It’s a bright, sunny day, but that guy sure sucked down his cigarette fast. I caught a toke as he swept by, the cold air thankfully refreshing me enough to forget the cigarette stench.
There were no issues driving my car here. It greeted me quite nicely as I climbed behind the wheel, starting as soon as the ignition clicked. That’s pretty good for sitting close to a week, although I did let Alyssa drive it around the block last Sunday. The PTCruiserToTheAutoPartsStore is defying it’s reputation. Besides getting out of the house, it just felt good to drive again.
So I stopped off at the bank. My mom was suffering from pneumonia and couldn’t visit, so she sent me her gas money instead — don’t ask me why. I’m still her kid, 51 years old or not, and she wants to think she is taking care of me. It would have been interesting had mom made the three hour trip up to Chicagoland for the surgery. She and Mir undoubtedly have different philosophies for caring for the ill. Mir hovers and wakes me to ask if I need anything. That doesn’t go over too well, although I am trying to do my best to be the good husband, not giving a cranky answer even after she asks “Are you sure?” three or four times after I say no. Mir did have the smarts to ask my mom about what I would need. But mom would just bring it, wait for me to be awake before asking me any questions. But that’s the differences and no intelligent husband (of which I am not) would expect anything different.
My daughter has been the best, coming down to my little couch retreat with her laptop, just spending time with me. I like that. Mir doesn’t do that. She and Nate are the anxious ones, chattering away nervously as if silence will kill them, usually about the problem du jour, and they leave after a minute if I don’t engage. That’s been hard to do as most of the past few days have been lived in a haze.
By the way, I pooped. That’s important.
Women have longer business meetings, by the way. Blondie and Cosmetic Women are still at it. Cool Glasses Guys are finishing up as is bored tie guy. Interesting.
More to come, I am sure. I feeling a turned corner here.