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April 30, 2009 - Betsy Bethel
I don't always mind Mondays.
Sometimes, it's quite nice to be back in a relatively quiet environment, sitting down, with mindful work to do, far, far away from the smelly dog, naughty cat and 3-year-old girl whose speech seems to have regressed to include only one whiny mantra, "I want a treat, Mommy."
Sometimes, it's even better than that. Two Mondays ago, one of my bosses asked if I'd lost weight and said I reminded him of the actress Meg Ryan. I responded that I gave up fast food for Lent and lost four pounds, and that at least one other person in my lifetime had compared me to the adorable Ryan (these people must need glasses!). I told him he made my week.
This past Monday, however, was one of THOSE Mondays. I had to get a new tire put on my car, and when I finally got to work, a co-worker was in a mood that made me want to hide under my desk. I had a magazine deadline to meet, however, and attempted to stay focused. Sometime mid-day, between "gotta get this done" and "can I please just have some quiet!", my desk phone rang, and I instantly remembered I had a lunch date with a new friend, at, oh shoot — I looked at the clock — 10 minutes ago!
"I'm leaving now! Where am I supposed to be?" I asked, scatter-brained.
"Right. I'm on my way."
All the way up to The Highlands, I berated myself for making this very busy friend wait for me. At least I had gotten my tire fixed and no longer had to hold my breath from Point A to Point B, hoping it didn't blow. (I thought, steel belt showing through, forgot to renew my AAA, going through no-man's-land between Elm Grove and Highlands -- that would not be good!)
I arrived at Panera. No friend. Not on the patio. Not in Laptop Land. Not in bathroom. I don't have her cell number.
A sinking feeling came over me.
"Um, hi," I sheepishly approached the counter. "Um, could you please call your St. Clairsville store and see if there's a girl named Kristen there waiting for someone named Betsy?"
And, of course, she was. I gave the Panera lady my cell number, and she gave it to the St. C. Panera lady to give to Kristen. My phone rang.
"I am sooooo sorry!" I said about 50 times as I rushed out to my car. We decided to reschedule ... for next Monday.
Not wanting to waste my trip to The Highlands, and remembering the mood my co-worker was in, I stopped at Russell Stover's on the way off the hill and picked up a 3-pound box of Bloopers for $1.99. Chocolate is always welcome in our office.
Of course, I had to open them on my way out of the parking lot. Mmm, raspberry caramel. Heaven, for a split second. As I slowed down to merge onto I-70, now didn't that big box just slide right onto the science experiment that is the floor of my car?
(Note to co-workers: Not to worry, I gathered the ones that actually hit the floor and tossed them out! Good thing, since I had just visited a pig farm over the weekend. ... JK!)
Here's hoping for some better Mondays ahead.
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