Today was one of THOSE days. It started off okay, until I left the house to meet my friend Ed for lunch. At 11. At Panera. I'm sitting at a table and it's 11... 11:15... 11:30... I grab my cell and call him.
"Hello," he says cheerfully, when he picks up.
"So are you just blowing me off or are there darker forces at work?" I inquire.
Phone silence. Then a clearing of the throat followed by, "I am NOT blowing you off. Blowing you off would require my having remembered that we were supposed to meet in the first place..."
Okay, so lunch on my own. I'm a big girl, I can handle it.
I toodle over to Barnes & Nobles at 12:30 to meet a woman I met months ago at a networking seminar I taught. I can't remember what she looks like so am relying on her to find me. I'm sitting at a table and it's 12:30... 12:35... 12:40...
I call my best friend.
"Something's off with me," I say. "People are actively avoiding me."
Right then my phone rang and it was my 12:30 appointment who, funny enough, was sitting at a table almost directly across from me. My hair was lighter when we met (totally natural highlights from, uh, the sun) and she hadn't recognized me. Lovely woman, lovely meeting. So that was good.
I meet with my trainer and then head out to my car to drive to my chiropractor (treating me for bicipital tendonitis). I've got my bag stashed in my trunk so I open the trunk, reach in and pull out my wallet, then slam the trunk closed.
With the keys locked inside.
Call AAA, hang out at trainer's and watch other people workout. Tow truck arrives an hour later. Race home so sloppy lentils cooking in crockpot don't shrivel into nothingness.
I'm no fool. I'm done. I've got a finished manuscript to send to my editor but not tonight. I'll wait until tomorrow and hope the weird mojo leaves the body by then. Or the effects of the full moon wear off. Whatever.
Bottom line, I'm not coming out until tomorrow. . .