Friday, September 18, 2020
Wow, Friday got here fast this week, one of the perks of being unconscious the first half, huh.
So check out my new planter/statue/whatever.
His name is Li’l Cap’n. Gary had to go to Lowes for something yesterday and came home with him.
While Gary was at Lowes, I was upstairs, cursing my computer because I got kicked off our remote system every five minutes all damn day.
I shook my fist at the ceiling.
“Is this a sign, God? Are you telling me I should stop working?”
And then the office IT guy tried to tell me it was my fault.
I’m the least confrontational person in the world in suchlike matters but I finally snapped. In fact, I went ballistic.
I fired off an email to IT guy and our office manager and cc’d my boss.
“I will not be treated like an idiot. I treat everyone with respect and I expect the same in return...” blah blah blah.
I had some things I needed to say I’d been holding back since I began working there, i.e. dudes, I’m on your team, working for the good of the firm. Don’t treat me like some lesser being or the enemy.
Seriously.
Gah! It was horrible that I had to do that. What’s wrong with people? Okay, rhetorical question but still.
So I had my say and guess what, there was no more snark from anyone when I encountered yet more tech trouble an hour later.
It’s the new me, people. I’m armed with those monthly social security checks and ready to rumble. 😂😂😂
Anyway, back to the story.
I heard the front door open.
“Rob! Rob! Come downstairs! Wait til you see what I bought!”
Ooh, presents. I like presents.
I practically leapt out of my chair and raced downstairs.
“Look,” said Gary, pointing to Li’l Cap’n and grinning at me. “I saw him at the check out counter and freaked out. I thought he would cheer you up after the rough week you had.”
Our eyes locked.
Mine filled up with tears.
Let’s go back many decades ago, pre kids, to our wild hippie selves.
Gary and I were at the beach. We probably smoked two ounces of pot that day because back then pot was $15 an ounce and didn’t send you to the emergency room if you smoked too much. You’d giggle until you got hungry, eat a few pizzas and a couple hundred Oreos, then smoke some more pot to settle your stomach.
It was fun.
Anyway, we were giggling pretty heavily when Gary realized he was thirsty.
“Rob, let’s go up to the boardwalk and get a drink,” he said.
“Noooo, I’m too high,” I replied, rolling over on my belly. “But bring me back a bottle of water, okay?”
That’s the kind of shit I get away with til this day with Gary.
Yep, I’m a lucky girl.
So he went for drinks and I smoked another joint.
I know you had to be there, but when Gary returned, he was wearing a captain’s hat that he bought on impulse at the check out counter while paying for drinks.
I looked up all stoned and saw him standing there grinning with his long bushy hair hanging out of that ridiculous hat and I completely lost it.
“Cap’n Gary, Cap’n Gary,”
I laughed so hard my ribs hurt.
Then Gary started to laugh and pranced around talking like Thurston Howell, III and it was the kind of day and the kind of laughter you never forget.
Even if it was fifty years ago and we did smoke two ounces of pot.
For years, Gary would whip out that hat and put it on whenever he thought I needed a good laugh.
It always worked.
So when I saw Li’l Cap’n, even though our yard didn’t need any more stuff, my heart just about burst.
I’m giggling looking at him now through the window in the early morning light. If he had some black mixed in with the brown, he’d look like Jake.
I love him.
So yeah, it’s the little things.
A gesture of love, whether tangible or not.
Something that makes you smile, or even better, laugh until your ribs hurt.
Anything that takes us out of ourselves and makes us forget our demons.
For me these days that means watching birds and yelling at Donald and his idiot supporters on Twitter.
Hey, whatever works.
So I’m good, Li’l Cap’n is wagging his tail and I’m ready to face today.
“Rob! Rob! Come downstairs! Wait til you see what I bought!”
Ooh, presents. I like presents.
I practically leapt out of my chair and raced downstairs.
“Look,” said Gary, pointing to Li’l Cap’n and grinning at me. “I saw him at the check out counter and freaked out. I thought he would cheer you up after the rough week you had.”
Our eyes locked.
Mine filled up with tears.
Let’s go back many decades ago, pre kids, to our wild hippie selves.
Gary and I were at the beach. We probably smoked two ounces of pot that day because back then pot was $15 an ounce and didn’t send you to the emergency room if you smoked too much. You’d giggle until you got hungry, eat a few pizzas and a couple hundred Oreos, then smoke some more pot to settle your stomach.
It was fun.
Anyway, we were giggling pretty heavily when Gary realized he was thirsty.
“Rob, let’s go up to the boardwalk and get a drink,” he said.
“Noooo, I’m too high,” I replied, rolling over on my belly. “But bring me back a bottle of water, okay?”
That’s the kind of shit I get away with til this day with Gary.
Yep, I’m a lucky girl.
So he went for drinks and I smoked another joint.
I know you had to be there, but when Gary returned, he was wearing a captain’s hat that he bought on impulse at the check out counter while paying for drinks.
I looked up all stoned and saw him standing there grinning with his long bushy hair hanging out of that ridiculous hat and I completely lost it.
“Cap’n Gary, Cap’n Gary,”
I laughed so hard my ribs hurt.
Then Gary started to laugh and pranced around talking like Thurston Howell, III and it was the kind of day and the kind of laughter you never forget.
Even if it was fifty years ago and we did smoke two ounces of pot.
For years, Gary would whip out that hat and put it on whenever he thought I needed a good laugh.
It always worked.
So when I saw Li’l Cap’n, even though our yard didn’t need any more stuff, my heart just about burst.
I’m giggling looking at him now through the window in the early morning light. If he had some black mixed in with the brown, he’d look like Jake.
I love him.
So yeah, it’s the little things.
A gesture of love, whether tangible or not.
Something that makes you smile, or even better, laugh until your ribs hurt.
Anything that takes us out of ourselves and makes us forget our demons.
For me these days that means watching birds and yelling at Donald and his idiot supporters on Twitter.
Hey, whatever works.
So I’m good, Li’l Cap’n is wagging his tail and I’m ready to face today.
Hope you guys are, too. Don’t forget your gratitude lists!
Real quick, here’s what I wrote today:
I am grateful for:
(1) Rosh Hashanah dinner tonight
(2) The freedom of knowing I can retire
(3) Walking Jake with Gary
(4) Autumn
(5) Jethro Tull
Shana Tova!
