When I finally sat down to read my two Sunday newspapers in the evening, I opened up the bag that was supposed to be my local paper and found the New York Times. The delivery person left me the wrong paper?
I’d already had trouble in the a.m. procuring the San Francisco Chronicle. I was out of town and tried to get it from a newspaper machine in front of a liquor store, but the quarters jammed up and wouldn’t go down and wouldn’t come out. I gave up my $2.00 (I did get four quarters back) and went to the grocery store instead. I loaded my stuff and the dogs and drove the two hours back home, checked mail and email, wondered where my contractor was (he said he was going to work on Sunday). I found my newspaper in a bag inside my house. He must’ve stopped by and brought it in.
Then I went to the drugstore for dog food and birdseed and my sister’s prescription meds. I came home, took care of some stuff, and sat down to read my two newspapers. On the top of the pile was the New York Times. Had I bought the wrong paper? But there was the San Francisco Chronicle underneath. My contractor had grabbed the wrong paper? Or the delivery person gave my neighbor the local paper instead of his New York Times?
I wanted to read the Sunday Homes section, the real estate section, and the Dear Abby and Miss Manners. None of that was in the New York Times. Why did that bother me so much?
I am a creature of habit. I like to plan ahead and do what I do. When things get changed up, I don’t find it exciting. I find it irritating. If the contractor says he is coming, I want him to show up. If I expect the local paper, I don’t want to find the NY Times.
The ironic thing is that I could’ve bought the local paper at the drug store, had I known that I had the wrong one. It’s the little things that make or break a weekend. The rest of it was good. I miss Miss Manners. In the big picture, I will survive.
I tried to call the local paper to get a replacement, but no one answered. I could’ve gone back to the drugstore, but I was out of steam. The good news is that I got home before the next rainstorm, which will come in the a.m. We are all sick of rain, but we will be happy in September when we still have water in our reservoirs. It doesn’t rain here in the summer. We have to make it last for months.
I am off topic, time to stop. At least I can keep my nightly ritual of a cup of cocoa or an ice cream treat, depending on whether I am hot and need to cool off or cold and need to warm up.
Tonight it is cocoa.