I finally heard from John, so I know he isn't dead. I called him back on the way home from work (it's ridiculous how, every time I get in my car, I scroll through my mental list of loved ones and think, "Hm, whom can I call?" I used to use car time for quiet and reflection, or worship music, or really loud absolutely-not-worship music accompanied by silly in-car dancing; now it's my conversation time with all the people who live far away from me, which is almost everyone).
The phone rang a few times, then stopped. As I was turning left into a busy intersection, I didn't notice till thirty seconds later that the line had been cut off. "Stupid Verizon," I thought, as I am wont to think (or say, usually accompanied by some expletive which, when I use it thinking I've been cut off from a conversation with my mother, she always hears), but then I shrugged and went about my day.
On the way home from my second job tonight, I checked my voice mail to hear a rather flustered message from John:
"Hi, sorry about what happened earlier...I answered in the shower and the water's really soft and I slipped and dropped the phone."
I can just picture it. It's a scary image, but definitely worth a laugh.
Today I changed five poopy diapers. Oh, the joy. I know I'm settling into my job when the sight doesn't send my stomach into heaves, I can use a wipe for more than one swipe, and my nose automatically forgets to smell.
5 comments:
I want an apartment.
I've sent you traffic Sarah, how pleasing that is. I've added you to my blogroll, I have always loved your thinking and values. You stand as a true young, virtuous woman, stay that way!
I love you miss you and want to visit your appartment! MUAH!
Ha! I do the same thing! I resent the phone ringing while I'm at home but as soon as I get in my car I start dialing people. Maybe I'm just a fan of multi-tasking.
Allan Edwards, freaking come here and visit. I adore you.
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