I just activated my emergency Snickers bar.
You might be saying to yourself, I thought she was forced to give up chocolate. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
I made it through Halloween without a single piece of chocolate, which took great will power; but I was committed to good health and respectful of my dietary restrictions. However, I did stash one Snickers bar, perhaps as a measure of security, where I could get to it in an emergency.
Recently, some minor yet frustrating annoyances have graced our doorstep, which have called for generous amounts of patience and flexibility. The first was October’s fender bender and the various inconveniences that ensued.
I fully appreciate that the flies in my ointment are mere gnats compared to what the world’s poor, sick and homeless face every day. All the more reason to face one’s irritations with proper perspective.
So, as my gnats began to reproduce and mutate, I consulted my handy new manual, How to Say It, to be sure I addressed each inconvenience—and the person behind it—appropriately. Chapter 13 on Complaints offered a wealth of tips and techniques for airing one’s grievances, firmly but politely. I drew upon the insights offered in Chapter 13 to respond to statements like, We’re sorry, Mrs. Welch, but the rug you ordered in August, that was to be delivered in September, might (but we cannot offer any guarantee) be delivered in mid-January, and We’re sorry, Mrs. Welch, but the home project that was to be done in October is delayed indefinitely. We hope to start before Christmas (but we cannot offer any guarantee).
Chapter 13 gave me the right words but it provided no guarantee. Or result. I was on the edge.
With the ointment now full of horse flies, the only weapon I had left was an illegal, fun-sized Snickers bar.
Now, following a Snickers breakfast and paying the piper for it, I will leave to catch an early flight with an impossibly tight connection. I will be optimistic about not hearing your flight is delayed, your flight has been cancelled or you missed your connection. (Heaven knows, the airlines offer no guarantee.)
Either way, I know the newsstand sells grown-up sized Snickers bars. And extra strength Tums.
Optimism aside, is it an omen that an enormous fly is buzzing overhead as I write this?
3 responses to “Desperate times”
The irony is that Monica is having to change her flight. I heard this via cell as she was running across the tarmac… No doubt, upon landing, she will head for the closest chocolate vending machine
I settled for chocolate-free trail mix. Back on track.
More than an omen. Have a safe, direct and hassle free flight!