I’ve developed an odd fixation as of late – and it’s just so . . . weird.
I’ve been craving (and devouring) Hershey’s Mr. Goodbars like there’s no tomorrow. I’m not kidding – this is a candy that, before last month, I’d probably had ten Mr. Goodbars total in the last decade (if not longer). Yet for some reason, I just can’t get enough of them.
I’d get it if these had been a major part of my childhood, and I was just reverting back to some old-timey goodness – I mean, I will periodically drink a Pepsi because it was my mother’s favorite soft drink, and it reminds me of her – but that’s not the case with these candy bars. For me, Mr. Goodbar was like that unidentified guy in the background of a photo of yours: It was there lingering, but it had no impact on me and mine. The sudden (and I do mean ‘sudden’) interest in these candies came out of thin air.
Don’t know and don’t care; they’re pretty good, but this has really got to stop.
I’m becoming convinced that either I need to stop driving, or I need to stop shopping in the same locale, because . . . well, because things happen.
I ended up at the same shopping center that I visited some days ago, where the infamous parking standoff occurred. My being there was partially an accident, as I hadn’t consciously wanted to return. Rather, I was out and about with the Little Woman, driving aimlessly around town, and we just *ended up* there. The odds of me running into the same guy are slim – I know this – and the odds of that happening and him remembering me are even slimmer. There was no reason to fear returning to this parking lot because I had a greater chance of being hit by a driver who wasn’t paying attention than I did of encountering my parking stall nemesis.
And those were pretty good odds, too, because yes, someone nearly hit me as we were leaving our car and crossing over to enter the building.
No big deal, to be honest; people just don’t pay attention in that particular lot. I’m actually surprised that there aren’t more accidents there. I’ve seen a few and I’ve heard of others, but I’m just blown away by the fact that given the way that parking lot is constructed, there just aren’t more run-ins. Today’s incident was just the same old routine; fortunately, I had enough time to evade the wayward vehicle, and life was good.
But as we were leaving the center, about an hour later, we found ourselves in the opposite situation. As I was pulling out of a parking lane, intending to follow the path to the street exit (i.e., I was trying to leave the parking lot), an older couple – they had to be in their 70s – walked against the light across the street. I saw them, but they were a good bit in front of me, and were not at risk of being struck. But the woman gave me a horrible, evil glare, and according to the Little Woman, her male companion was no better.
“He was pretty pissed,” she said. “Didn’t you see him pointing at you as he mumbled something?”
No, I hadn’t. I was more baffled why a couple who was old enough to know better, decided to ignore the two pedestrian walkways to cut across a road. Fortunately, I don’t have to visit that shopping center; after the last couple of days, it may be a good while before I go back, anyway.
Unless, that is, I can convince someone else to do the driving.
I also sense that I am pulling back from that dark place that I’d recently inhabited.
The problems awaiting me haven’t gone anywhere; rather, they seem to have become entrenched. I have work that I’m supposed to do, but I have absolutely no desire to do it. For the first time in a very long time, the enthusiasm I have for my work and my students has been somewhat muted. I feel rudderless most of the time, and on those rare occasions where I feel that I know where I’m going, then there’s the anxiety and fear of what will happen next.
In addition to the various pains and aches I’ve been fighting, I managed to tumble down the stairs today, so I can now mark off one more thing from my “Things I Don’t Want to Do” list. Actually, it was a slight fall wherein my knee absorbed the majority of the shock. I’ve been limping all day, but I’m fine. It’s just that it seems as if it’s not one thing, then there’s something else ready to do me in.
Despite this, I’m determined to push on. I mean, what choice do I have? I know that on my worst day, I’m still doing better than a lot of people, so I’m definitely thankful for that. I mean, it’s okay to grieve over some of life’s curveballs, but never forget that what ever has happened could have been far worse. That’s been my advice to others in similar situations; it’s about time I started following it myself.
So, I continue on in the hope that some of the weight I’ve been carrying will either get lighter, or I’ll get better at carrying it.