This will come as no big surprise. The closer it comes to a deadline, the more I procrastinate. Then, the more chores and errands build up, and then the faster I rush around trying to get other things done. Well, Monday was just such a day.
John’s been enjoying his job, but it takes up A LOT of his time on zoom calls. (Thank God I have noise cancelling headphones.) Therefore I’m the one who does errands during the day. Do we need groceries? I’m your gal. Something BIG, from the office supply store that they might not deliver, like one of those totes, yep, that’s me. Banking? Pharmacy? Go to our mailbox place to pick things up? Me. Me. Me.
So, I had all of that piled up, but I even scheduled in a treat. So here goes.
Staples is the first stop, grab a big plastic tote, because I know that the big package I need to pick up from the mailbox place is John’s cycling gear, and it will need to be organized into something. Then the pharmacy is on the way from Staples.
“What do you mean you don’t have my thyroid medicine, it said on the app that you did.” I asked nicely, even though I was frazzled.
“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s this other med, that starts with a “T”. You didn’t ask for a refill on your thyroid medicine.”
I grit out a smile and ask them if they could put in a refill for it.
“It will be ready in an hour.”
Okay, I’m going to my next errand. The mailbox place, which is next door to Panera Bread where I can get a cinnamon roll.
I whiz into the UPS store and smile. “I’m just collecting my mail, but you have a package for me. I’m number 65.”
The man checks his screen. “No we don’t.”
I go and open my box, and grab the mail, there’s the slip that says I have a package. I hand it to him. He gives me my huge package. I say thank you. I take it out to the car and shove it in next to the tote. I walk over to Panera Bread and pick up a cinnamon roll. I dig around in my purse to see if I have enough in cash, nope, only three dollars and no change. I pay by credit card.
I put it in my car, then walk over to the bank to deposit two checks into the ATM. Then figure I could use some cash. I ask for $300 in cash first, all twenties. I throw that into my purse. Then I think better of it, and figure I should put it into my wallet, so I grab it out, and start to put it into my wallet. But it’s doesn’t feel thick enough. I count it. Only $120.
I go into the bank. At least I can see my banker, Bac, she is so cool. But most of the time I’m thinking I’ve got to get back to writing my book and eating my cinnamon roll. I go up to the teller, and explain my situation. She tells me I need to see a personal banker. Perfect, I ask for Bac. She’s notarizing a client, but I play on my phone and wait. (Still dreaming about my cinnamon roll, and figuring at least I will have killed enough time to pick up the thyroid meds.)
When I get over to Bac’s desk, I explain my tale of woe. She said that had just happened to another customer, and she gets on the phone and is put on hold. We chat for a bit. I had given her two signed books for her sister before Christmas, and apparently her sis had loved them. After a while on hold, Bac’s transferred to someone else, then put on hold again. We’re talking about insurance agents, and I told her about mine. I said I’d give Bac his card. I look in my wallet, it’s not there. I go fishing in my purse.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Bac. I am sooooo sorry.”
“I just found the money.”
I pull out the $180 in twenties and show her.
“Are you sure you didn’t have that money before? Maybe the ATM really did short you.”
I laugh. “You are so sweet. Trust me, I only had $3 to my name. Yep, I’m just a dumbass.” I hand her the insurance guy’s card, and swipe up the $120 that had been laying there, and take the new $180 and start to throw it in my purse. Bac politely clears her throat.
“Do you think you might want to put that in your wallet?”
I thought tears would stream down my face, I laughed so hard.
I love her.