Avid Inkling

The squeal of tires awakes me. I lay in bed, straining to hear for a crash, but none comes, typical. After a short phone conversation with my fiancé, I get out of bed, tend to the cat, have a responsible breakfast of Crispix, and then spend an hour watching the news while spinning away on the stationary bicycle in the living room.

Sticky from the hour spin, I have a leisurely shower. Then I check e-mail and the internet’s interpretation of the news and current events as I listen to the local radio talk show guru that is on before the Rush Limbaugh show. I liked Glenn Beck better, but he’s been moved to 9 or 10pm, after the Tony Snow show, which I don’t like nearly as much so I tend not to listen.

After an equally responsible lunch of a small roast beef sandwich on what my mother has deemed to be “acceptable” bread (the kind where you can see the grains and granules), I head to the library to pick up the six books that are on hold for me. Correction, they’re on hold for my mother, but I used online account to request them.

I feel very sneaky checking out the books with mom’s card, (she knows I am using it, she left it for me to use).

I go chat with the retired librarian who runs the book donation area. I plan to donate my books there instead of dragging them to 1/2 Price Books, it really isn’t worth it for the books I’m trying to get rid of, I won’t get enough to cover gas money anyway.

Checking on the friend’s pets proves futile, I don’t have the key for the dead bolt so I can’t check to see if the pet-sitter is doing a good job or not. The dogs met me joyously at the back gate, they were on their leashes, and had water, I hope it doesn’t rain on them. Hopefully the cat’s have food.

Down ElDorado to ElCamino to HEB, I feel very much like a BMW as I slowly creep up and down the rows of parked cars and beat out a large SUV for the Perfect Parking Location, not too far from the exit of the grocery store. I feel even more BMW-esque as I slowly meander the aisles of groceries. I don’t have much else to do today. I just need to find enough food to sustain me for the weekend, and appropriately entertain my guest.

Tonight we will have organic shells in a white cheddar sauce and a caesar salad, Saturday for breakfast we will have fresh blueberry muffins, dinner will be a lasagna and a mixed salad with ranch, breakfast will be fresh cinnamon rolls.

Politely turning down the people handing out samples, I watch the other shoppers. It is very clearly Spring Break in CCISD. Many shoppers have at least one school-aged child in tow. Happily, I don’t. No one is tugging on my sleeves demanding super sugary cereal, or throwing tantrums over the shapes of the pasta they are clearly not going to get.

At the checkout counter, the woman is not quite sure what to make of me. I am a pale blue oxford button-down shirt with three or four buttons buttoned, a now oversized pair of gray men’s cargo pants and low-budget bright red flip-flops. My hair is up in a messy ponytail. My micro-fiber purse and red leather wallet further seem to confuse her.

As I walk to the car, I admire the excellent location I parked. I am also quite happy not to be the mother struggling to keep the two children with her under control. They are refusing to hold her hands as they walk through the parking lot.

Pulling into the driveway at home, I pause and wonder what the Cat is doing, hopefully he’s staying off the roof.