My husband leaves really early every morning. My alarm goes
off just as he is about to head out the door, but he never leaves without
saying those three magic little words: I love you “what’s
the plan?”
I swim toward consciousness and try desperately to find an
answer. What day is it? What’s going on? Who has what? When am I working out? I
sometimes come up with a response before Bill gives up and heads out while I
plea with him to just text me later. I’ll figure it out, I always do.
Yesterday the kids both had stuff to do after school, my boy
needed to be picked up and have some food thrown at him before getting dropped
off at the Y. My girl needed to be picked up and delivered to girl scouts (with
nut order form, with dues, with $ for pizza) and would then be transported to
the Old Globe for a seasonal production of How the Grinch Stole Christmas
(love) and dropped off at home.
Once I factored in the most important issue of when and
where I planned to work out, I considered a couple of options before deciding
that I would leave work a little early to pick up the boy from the y and drop him at home,
and I figured I’d still have time to stop by sports authority for the new insoles
that I felt I desperately needed inside of my shoes before this next workout.
Great plan! I texted Bill with the news. I could tell he
shared my excitement about the greatness of the plan by reading between the lines
of his deeply heartfelt response: “ok” swoon!
I picked up both kids plus one extra, fed everyone taquitos,
dropped the boys at the Y, brought the girl back to work, Bill picked her up, Check!
Check! Check! Check! Check! I hurried to leave work at the appointed time to
retrieve the boy, drop him at home, and take care of my tootsies at the
sporting goods store right next to the gym. Che………
Then the extra boy’s mom offered to pick them up from the Y
and take them to dinner before dropping my boy at home.
My great plan got even greater! And now I could finish up
that last bit of work before heading straight to the store/gym. Plenty of time.
Plenty of time, plenty of time for answering texts and
emails and questions, still plenty of time.
Then…Shit. Not enough time. Gotta go! Late! I need those insoles!
I raced over there, put hair up and removed make up en
route. Found nowhere to park, faced off with cranky people going the wrong way
in the parking lane, squeezed into a semi legit spot by the gas station, and
ran in to the store with my gym bag in one hand and my $6 coupon in the other.
I went straight to the insoles, then the register. Check! Check! Check!
There was only one person in line. She was from Hawaii. She had called
ahead to have a jacket set aside because
she was taking a trip to North
Carolina. The jacket was really soft. It wasn’t the
one that the helpful clerk had pulled, and look how funnily she had spelled her
Hawaiian name! Oh but the other clerk had grabbed the jacket! There it was. Oh
yes, it was soft! Soft and warm. Have a great trip! Oh. My. God.
One million hours later, it was my turn. I asked to borrow
scissors while the insoles were being rung up. I presented the
coupon, swiped my card, and signed while yanking my old insoles out and lining them up against
the new ones to trim down to size. I stepped aside for other shoppers but inserted
the new insoles right there at the counter, apologizing for my ridiculousness and
explaining that I was trying to make it to a 5:30 class. The cashier checked
the time. 5:30. I was still in my work clothes, and would have to high tail it all
the way through the big fancy gym to get to the locker room and change. I eyed
the store’s dressing room … how ridiculous was I willing to be?
Oh yes I did.
I stripped in record time and pulled on my pants, sports
bra, and tank top. My shoes were already out, and I rustled through the bag for
some socks. Argh, SOCKS! Why do I NEVER have socks in my gym bag? Last time I had
forgotten my socks, I had rushed into this very self-same store and picked up
an 8 pack of socks for a cause. None of those sassy pink ribboned socks were still in
my bag, and I thought I’d have to make another dash for the checkout with a new pair. Then my little eye spied a tiny white bundle nestled deep in the dark recesses of my
bag. Socks!
All I had to do was throw them on, I’d be in my shoes and warming up jogging over
to the gym in seconds flat. How long
does it take to put on a pair of socks? Socks are like the world’s most straightforward
and easily accessible clothing items. I
was so happy I had found a pair of socks!
These socks
5 comments:
Oh I love it. I'm right there with you, right in your day, with all the time in the world until there is *no* time, and love that glimmer of hope in the corner of your gym bag, since socks are like the world’s most straightforward and easily accessible clothing items...... not.
I love that those tootsie-toe socks were in your gym bag, but mostly I love that you *own* those tootsie-toe socks.
Awesome.
Ellie
You funny, Jacq! xo
Your life and mine? Couldn't be more different.... love it.. mom
I want to touch that jacket.
Maybe Julie can do it for me in NC.
Nice seeing you yesterday during check number ~236 -- post-taquitos but pre new insoles ;)
xoxo,
beth
I am all about the tootsie toe socks at work!! Glad I am not the only one :)
Post a Comment