This was my Wednesday morning, the day I picked up the certified police report. [How hard could that be, right?]
1. Found the police station. Right where I thought it would be.
2. Pulled into the parking lot at Texas de Brazil.
3. $2.00 minimum, $12.00 deposit, but I only had $13.00 in cash.
4. Explained to Attendant the First, and exited parking lot.
5. Pulled into the parking garage where I parked for the first day of jury duty.
6. Had forgotten that it was a $15.00 flat fee. [See #3, above.]
7. Attendant the Second graciously let me exit.
8. Went to Target and bought an apple, in order to break a $5.00.
9. Drove back to the police station, turned right.
10. Went down the hill behind TCC to the Trinity Trails parking lot.
11. Dropped $1.50 in quarters into a duplex parking meter.
12. Walked two and a half blocks, more or less, at a 20% or greater slope.
13. Had to stop twice and catch my breath.
14. Got the certified police report.
15. Walked carefully downhill, in order not to trip and roll into the river.
16. Stopped to get gas.
17. Stopped at Whataburger to grab breakfast.
18. Nearly 10 minutes in the drive-thru to get my breakfast.
19. Drove to work.
20. I-30 had one lane taken away for a mile or so, midway.
21. Walked into the office more than 2 hours after my usual starting time.
Learning curve: it’s what’s for breakfast. And brunch. And, almost, lunch. Next time I will know that the records office at the police station opens at 7:00am, and where to park, and that I should bring an oxygen tank and/or a Segway to navigate that hill. And maybe a pack of fine-looking age-appropriate paramedics following along respectfully, just in case I fall down on the job.
The new guy will be here in approximately eleven hours. Time to sit down and make a list of all the stuff that absolutely has to get done before he gets here. I don’t suppose there’s time to paint the living room?
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!