Frazzled.

I woke up late. No, wait. That’s a lie. I woke up on time, and thought, “Oh, just five minutes,” and snuggled back down. And slept for another hour. I blame the rain. There’s nothing so soporific as hearing the dripping of the rain outside and being in a warm, safe, snuggly bed.

So. At 7:45 I catapulted out of bed, ran through the shower, grabbed my umbrella, remembered my book, looked again for my umbrella, couldn’t find it, left without it, and thanked heaven in an absent-minded way that I totally knew where the first car was parked.

I started getting calls from the Co-op right outside my door, and had to run back inside, dodge the cat, get a pen, and write down what David wanted. Mole Hill truck is in the alley north of Davie, behind the apple market. Right. Goddit. Wrote it down. A minute later he calls back. Can I shuffle the cars at Electric Avenue? I’m crouched down in the rain and writing on my sodden paper, propped on my knee. Right. Electric Avenue. Goddit. Smart Car from stall 65 to 67. The M5 in 67 to 68. Okay. Okay. Board the bus clutching sodden paper in my mouth, bus pass and pen in one hand and cell phone in the other.

I totally didn’t know where the first car was. After ten minutes of wandering around in the rain, I finally found it exactly where it was supposed to be. I was looking one block west. Go, me. Get the car. Stop home. Find umbrella where I picked up book. Proceed to Tremblay. My beloved Tremblay Motors crew are chipper, they’ve been at work for almost two hours. I act breezy instead of sodden and zip out downtown.

Electric Avenue cars get shifted and I book over to the alley behind Davie, wondering who else has a legit job skulking in alleys. As I park the truck I wonder for a second. Did I remember deodorant? Um. No. I could continue on my merry and increasingly fragrant way, but I’m in the alley behind John and Arwen’s house. Pull out phone.

Me: Hey John!
John: Hey, what’s up.
Me: Nothing. But I AM going to ask you the strangest question you’re going to hear all month.
John: (unflappably) Okay.
Me: Can I borrow your wife’s deodorant? I’m right outside.
John: (laughs) Okay.

That’s why it’s good to have good friends. With sympathetic husbands, to boot.

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