Musings

I went to the Safeway deli today to get some lunch, as I do on occasion (maybe once every couple of months). As I went to the counter, the lady seemed very happy and cheerfully greeted me.

“Would you like some chicken wings?”
“Uh… yeah, actually.”

After she bagged the wings, she asked me, “And what about some potato wedges?”
“Yes… yes, those too…”

I had gone in there specifically to order chicken wings and potato wedges. How did she know this?

My best guess is that she’s seen me before, although, as I mentioned, I only go once every couple of months, so it’d be unlikely she’d remember what I ordered even if she did remember my face. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever had her before, or at least not in any of the last several trips. That would be a long time to remember someone’s order.

My other best guess is that she was able to  tell where I was looking, in which case she has some scarily acute vision.

My personal favorite guess, though, is that she’s psychic and able to read my mind to determine what I want. And what better way for a company to ensure customer satisfaction than to staff psychic deli workers?

I haven’t had my hair cut in over a year now, and I’ve been getting kind of annoyed with how long and heavy it’s gotten. So today I was determined to head out and finally get it cut.

Only when I stopped to look in a mirror, my hair decided to look extra nice for me, and I couldn’t bring myself to chop it all off.

Naturally once my resolve faltered, I went back later and looked in a mirror, only to see that my pretty hair was back to its usual frumpy self. By that point I didn’t feel like going out anymore.

My hair hates me, and is clearly determined to not be cut.

You were always there for me. You may not have always been accessible, but I always knew you were there, somewhere, beside me. I knew that if I ever really needed you, I could count on you to be there to help me find my way.

When the world became difficult and confusing, when things didn’t make sense, you were there to help me clear my head and figure things out. You helped me to see things as they really were.

And even though being with you sometimes gave me headaches, not being with you was so much worse. I don’t know how I would have made it without you. You, my dear, have helped me so much in my searching that I am unable to imagine a life without you.

…I’m speaking, of course, about my glasses, which I recently made the mistake of leaving out where the baby could reach them. They are now broken and being held together oh-so-stylishly with shipping tape. Where’s a welder when you need one…? I’m not even sure they can be fixed. Or at least, I don’t think they can be fixed and remain sturdy until my next appointment.

My poor, poor glasses. May they rest in peace.