Sometimes I go through my life in too much of a hurry. You know the adage, smell the flowers and all that. Recently I found a quote that suggests you can still smell the flowers if you pick them and go. Well. Not sure about that, but today I definitely had a smell the flowers kinda day, and at the early hour of 9 am, feel complete and justified in playing solitaire for the rest of the day. I cannot challenge the fates to provide any more entertainment for me because I maxed out before even getting to work.
My morning started with a call from John that there were downed power lines along the stretch of road I take in the mornings. It was a nice warning that undoubtedly saved me a great deal of time, with the bonus that the alternate route took me down some lovely scenery. Atlanta is still a beautiful city in spite of the new development craze to mow down all the trees. You just have to know the right neighborhoods. Decatur is one of those areas where the foliage is worth the investment. Anyway, the drive was very pleasant, and I got the incredible bonus of hearing Barry White. Does he have an incredible voice, or what???
I was momentarily transported back to slow dancing in the 70's. Um. Strike that. I forgot my kids read this.
Then, after turning up the airconditioning, I switched stations to listen to NPR's morning report. Yes, more fodder for the accusations that I am a closet liberal, but the news, while woefully biased, also contains a lot of colorful stories, and today was no exception.
There is a trend for doggie day cares. Yes, you can read about it here, but between the snorting and mockery that flashed through my mind, I started thinking about the interview with the pet owner, and something he said really struck me. The point of the report is that pet owners are sending their dogs to day care so the dogs don't sit at home all alone. One of the owner's pointed out that when she picks up her dog, he has played all day and is tired out and ready to go to sleep. She likes this, by the way, because she called it a bonus. Another guy was followed into the daycare and back into his car for the ride home. The highlight of the drive was the dog's snoring, albeit tenderly laying it's head on the owner's hand. What?
The reporter's tone indicates that this is the purpose of the daycare--so the animals are less of a nuisance and demand less when the owner's get home. He had the unbridled audacity to say this is a good thing for the busy professional who still wants the companionship of a dog.
Um. Excuse me. Why not get a stuffed animal then? I am offended, and I don't even like dogs. Just ask anybody that knows me.
And finally, I arrive at the college. Actually, I arrive at the Quik Trip. Sometimes I treat myself to a cup of coffee. It's the best coffee ever. Better than mine, better than that frou-frou expensive place, better than the mud they make in the office. So I go in and smile at the clerk and get my cup. I am almost bowled over by a short fireplug of a woman with the gigumbous size frozen slurpee thingie that she has layered in a lame attempt to achieve the rainbow they use in the ads.
I go to my check-out line, and she goes to the cigarette counter. Then she proceeds to argue with that clerk because the lung-ripper menthol cheapo cigarettes are not on sale at this store, and she insists that she must have two packs at the price she demands. Evidently, she doesn't have enough cash for lung collapse AND brain freeze. Or maybe the original problem is brain freeze.
Whatever the mess, she lost in the battle to save 37 cents, so she brings in the hysterical artillery, yelling at the clerk at the top of her (malfunctioning) lungs, "I'm a diabetic and my doctor says I should have all the cigarettes I want!"
Man. And here I was eating oatmeal and cutting down on the soft drinks.