It’s
been another week of discombobulatedness.
That
theme I was brewing last week? Still brewing. Not everything goes according to
plan. Sometimes very little goes according to plan.
Friday
I was being all efficient, or so I thought. Errand 1 … check. Errand 2 … a
bust. Item 3 …
Item 3 …
Anyone …
anyone …
Bueller
… Bueller …
I’ve
been nailed by this phenomenon before, but I didn’t have time for it this
particular day. For a couple months now there have been signs on either end of
New Albany warning of nightly lane closures from 6pm to 6am. Fine. So when one
is trying to make it to an appointment in the campus area at 10am … should be
smooth sailing, right? Scoot into town right after rush hour. Easy peasy,
right?
Wrong!
You
assumed! Never assume!
The
construction gods were not smiling upon me, and the freeway was down to one
lane inbound, thereby turning the road into more of a parking lot than
something where forward progress is actually made.
Ugh.
I had
Nigel the GPS fired up for the sole purpose of predicting my arrival time.
Eventually I had to admit that not even the hot British voice emanating from my
phone could work the space-time continuum in my favor. I called from the
parking lot, I mean freeway, and let them know I wouldn’t be there.
Planned
item 4 for the day was meeting up with my sister for a movie later that
morning. Whilst I contended with the Giant Parking Lot of New Albany she
checked alternatives on her phone. We could hit Easton instead of campus if the
movie times worked.
But
they didn’t.
I was
headed toward Easton by then – instead of taking the usual northern route – so
okay, I’ll head in 670 and drink coffee and read next door until movie time.
Is it just me, or does the sign seem to indicate Theatres 2-5 are in the men’s room??? |
Fast
forward to the end of the movie, which we thoroughly enjoyed. There weren’t a
ton of people in the theater – it was an 11:40am weekday show. The credits were
just starting to roll, and of course we were staying for the credits because
often there’s bonus footage afterward. And I want to see the credits. And I
like having a minute to contemplate what I’ve just experienced. It’s what you
do.
A couple
of older ladies entered the theater, presumably for the next showing. They were
completely oblivious to the fact that people were still watching the movie. Oh
the confusion. And the lack of silence.
Sigh.
“Completely
oblivious” is not an exaggeration. They could have shut up and waited at the
door. They could have sat quietly in nearby empty seats. One can always move to
a better seat after the lights are up.
But no.
Out of
maybe four or five partly occupied rows out of what, maybe twenty in the entire
house … they chose ours. We assumed (oh never assume) they would sit at the end
and stop the ruckus.
But no.
Oy vey,
they climbed past my sister and then me. “We’re still watching the movie,” may
have been uttered, but I’m not sure our seasoned citizens had their hearing
aids turned up sufficiently.
At this
point I assumed (oh here we go again) they’d choose seats a couple down from
me.
But no.
This
lady would have squished my purse with her behind had I not snatched up my bag
at the last second.
Wow.
My
personal space had been invaded. My olfactory senses were being hit with the
smell of a large popcorn almost in my face. And … wait for it … germophobia won’t
stop us from practically sitting on strangers in dark movie theaters (okay,
that sounds really bad, sorry), but it will make us bust out the hand
sanitizer.
Popcorn
and hand sanitizer. Anyone hungry for lunch?
:-)
They
never did stop talking.
Creeper shot of the Golden Girls Gang. |
Inhale.
Exhale.
The
rest of the afternoon went reasonably according to plan. Refreshing.
After inhaling a popcorn/hand sanitizer combo, you know what’s refreshing? Something with the word “chunks” in the name. |
Don’t
get too comfortable, though. The plan only held for a couple of hours.
:-)
Only
minor annoyances ensued. Like a five minute errand taking more like thirty-five
thanks to what was lined up in front of me. But then while standing in line I
discovered my spirit animal is now available as a plush toy.
Somebody buy me one of these. |
I’ve
become accustomed to things not going according to plan. My plan anyway. I
dodge and I weave and I adjust and I change. And at some point I don’t even
remember what the plan was. Or whether it mattered.
I was
struck the other day by Brennan Manning’s paraphrase of Colossians 3:11:
There is only Christ:
he is everything.
And
then this C.S. Lewis quote spoken in a eulogy last night …
“But, for a
Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret Master of the
Ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples "Ye have
not chosen me, but I have chosen you," can truly say to every group of
Christian friends "You have not chosen one another but I have chosen you
for one another." The Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination
and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals
to each the beauties of all the others. They are no greater than the beauties
of a thousand other men; by Friendship God opens our eyes to them. They are,
like all beauties, derived from Him through the Friendship itself, so that it
is His instrument for creating as well as for revealing. At this feast it is He
who has spread the board and it is He who has chosen the guests. It is He, we
may dare to hope, who sometimes does, and always should, preside. Let us not
reckon without our Host.”
There
is only Christ: he is everything.
For more So Yeah, About That thoughts see Sue
Bowles at bebold7.wordpress.com and Leisa Herren at life4inga.blogspot.com.
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