Thursday, May 29, 2008
A one-hop red-eye from Seattle to JFK to Syracuse delivered us--splat!--into Hancock International Airport yesterday mid-morning. With a stroke of good fortune (what some would call a blessing), Is. slept for the entire route, but the rest of us are still returning to shape from the weakened and dismantled lumps of exhaustion we were transformed into. In the spirit of slowly rebuilding, yesterday early afternoon I dropped Ph. at school (on his insistence), retrieved the dog from his generous caretakers, and later chased down a meal's worth of groceries. The grocery trip:
Since early March I have been experiencing what I can only explain as "dairy cooler" trauma. That's what happens when, upon returning from some time out of town, you gather up fresh groceries only to realize that the milk (soy, organic whole, etc., whatever dated stuff you consume) cartons are all up in your face with expiration dates that foretell another trip (or deadline, as may be the case) on the horizon. I withstood another such milk aisle assault yesterday when the cartons all bore the date I will be leaving (in appr. two weeks) for Albuquerque. On the bright side, it beats drinking curdled whatnot. Although it would be nice if the milks would lay off.
Today, after a meeting with one of my committee members about more or less successful Chs. Zero and One, and after I few errands, which included replacing a cell phone whose display has been on the blink (i.e., has been blank) for ten days, I stopped through a different grocery store for a second consecutive day of one-meal shopping. After offloading the foodstuff, I wheeled the empty cart toward the corral, where an old man was gathering them. He said, "Thanks," as I rolled the cart toward him, and then, "Hang in there, okay?"
Okay. Strangely nice to hear, and when I least expected it.Posted by Derek Mueller at May 29, 2008 6:25 PM to Unspecified