talking in my sleep

OH MY GOD.

The doofus who was supposed to buy the store, thereby triggering a chain of events that culminated in me getting the hell outta dodge for real, is MIA. He missed a meeting with my bank. He hasn’t called me back. He hasn’t called them back. All things that point to this: no good.

All I want right now is some pie.

Here is my favorite kind of pie: banana cream.

Upon hearing the bad news a part of my brain that has been long dormant kicked in. Wheels are turning. Ideas are being hatched. My hamster is getting tired. The goal: to leave here. I’m entertaining some creative escape plans. Faking my own death. Putting the word on the street that I’m a willing kidnap victim. Hitching the store to a trailer and driving it down to Georgia. Becoming more attractive for alien abduction (i.e. gaining 40 pounds and moving to a farm in Iowa.) Trying to take out a loan so I could cover the mortgage and go to Athens, have M take over the store.

WAIT A MINUTE.

That last idea… the one right after alien abduction. That one could actually work! I could borrow a little money, wouldn’t need much. I could pack up and move for the winter. I could be happy. I could go see a band without looking over my shoulder. I could start to get over this. Figure out what I want, what I need, what I have to do with a little distance, a little emotional detachment. Come back slightly more able to deal with all this.

YEZ. That is what I shall do.

More debt for emotional relief! Sign me up!

Of course, all this is providing I can find someone drunk enough to give me a loan. Wish me luck!

What I wish I was doing right now: packing.

Who I wish was president elect: Mr. T.

I had an annoying customer experience yesterday! Except this time, I was the annoying customer! A nice change! Here are the pet peeves I surely trounced upon:

#1: I had kids with me. My only saving grace on this one is that I left the stroller outside instead of bumping it into everything and blocking traffic. Good for me. I’m still annoying though.

#2: I asked to see the label on the vanilla flavor syrup. Sam is allergic to peanuts and he’s a cool kid, so I try to keep him alive by checking things like that for him. The vanilla syrup passed the test! Woo-hoo!

#3: I ordered him a small vanilla steamer and the girl working the counter asked me what kind of milk. Jokingly, I asked Sam what kind of milk he wanted FULLY expecting to launch into some kind of kid/grown-up Abbot and Costello routine about how chocolate milk wouldn’t work in a vanilla steamer… but he said SOY. Soy milk for a 4 year old. How am I gonna recover from this one?

#4: I get soy milk, too. Hello, yuppie!

#5: When the girl hands me the steamer, I taste it to make sure it isn’t too hot for Sam. It’s PERFECT. I tell her so, add another bonus point. Hand it to Sam and watch as, in slow motion, it slides through his outreached hands and crashes to the floor. Peanut-free vanilla soy steamer is EVERYWHERE. Gulp!

#6. I set the baby down to help clean it up, go to throw away the cup and spin around to a screaming Sam because Lucy is crawling for the peanut-free vanilla soy steamer puddle! OH NO! I run and grab her just in time. The screaming though, surely, it didn’t win us any friends.

They make us another one, we leave immediately.

My attempted redemption: I tip an extra $5 on top of the $1 I had already put in. So a scone, steamer and iced coffee cost me $12. Niiiiice. And they probably still hated me. Niiiicer.

Alrighty, I’m off to forge loan applications! Let’s all hope the credit bureaus get hit with good will computer viruses that make everyone’s credit report nearly perfect!