Actually I have no problem adjusting to the fact it is 2018, but I seem to have lost 2017 somewhere. I know it's 2018, but I feel like 2016 was last year. Whenever I see something posted online as 2016, I totally see it as being last year. Kinda like the 90's being "a couple of years ago" I suppose.
About an hour before time to leave to instruct my Wine and Paint Night art party, my (oh-so-smart) hubby says, "Maybe you should open your garage door and start your granny-mobile for a bit, it's pretty cold in your [unheated] garage."
Even though I know the mobile has been parked since before New Year's Eve, I replied, "Last time it was -30, my garage was -6, so it should be good."
Fast forward to time to leave:
I activate 2 "Little Hotties" hand warmers for my gloves (can't show up to a paint party with frozen fingers) I kiss hubby goodbye, head to the garage to load painting supplies for 18 wine drinking artists, and casually comment, " I hope parking doesn't suck too bad." There's lots of construction downtown and the usual parking lot across from the Twisted Cork has been fenced off.
I go to open the back hatch, and it's locked. I press the key fob and it flashes but I hear no click. Damn. I guess the fob needs the battery replaced. I manually unlock the mobile, open the door, and the interior light doesn't come on. Yikes! It's time to leave for my art party downtown at the Twisted Cork and the granny mobile is dead. D.E.D. Dead.
"ALBERT!!!!" (Screaming this always fixes things in my world)
Long story short, I piled my art supplies into Bruce, the monster truck (which I have driven less than 3 times in the 2 years we have owned it) to head downtown.
I have to summon my hubby to figure out how to turn the headlights on before I leave the driveway.
As I'm driving I try to play with the unfamiliar-to-me on-dash screen to put the seat heater on. I end up with the seat A/C on. I arrive at my party location with toasty fingers and a frozen ass.
I park in front in the "loading zone" and unload my supplies, and move the truck to park two and a half blocks away to avoid getting towed.
Blah, blah blah, ... 2 1/2 hours later after successful art party ... I make the first of 2 trips back to the truck with a suitcase, wooden apple box and pail of supplies.
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| I still can't believe this is my "job." I am so blessed. |
As I leave the truck after adding the first load to the back seat, I am approached by what I assume is a street person.
Sniff. Sniff. "Is there smoke coming from you?" The bundled up slightly-intoxicated street person inquires of me.
"Nope. No smoke here," I reply.
"Oh, I can smell someone smoking."
I respond, "There's a couple of restaurant servers around the corner taking a smoke break."
I remember the "Little Hotties" hand warmers still activated in my coat pocket. I reach for them and offer them to the woman standing on the minus 20-something street. "I activated these hand warmers a couple of hours ago, but they are still warm. Do you want them?"
"NO!"
"Um, okay then." I walk away towards the Twisted Cork to pick up my second trip of art supplies.
She grabs my shoulder. "Do you have any cigarettes? Or some cash?"
I want to respond with anger. You don't wan't the warmth I offer, but you want my cash. Or my smokes - neither of which I carry.
But instead I wish her well, put the the Little Hotties into the back pockets of my jeans and walk away.
I arrived home with a warm butt, purse full of cash, and a heart full of thankfulness.
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