The day before Fran’s birthday. Sheesh! Fran is a good friend. Abnormal and whacked in all the usual suburban ways but especially so when it comes to her birthday. DO NOT FORGET BIRTHDAY! That is not a reminder, it is a threat and comes very close to a curse. It has worked that way on me, that’s for sure. For years!
I have been living in fear now since November started. I usually remember Fran’s birthday because it was also my parent’s wedding anniversary. But my parents are gone and the double-trigger, it seems, was necessary for me to remember either/both. So, I remember for virtually every day except, of course, the ACTUAL day and then all Hell breaks loose when it comes and goes. Tomorrow, we’ll be in town doing some shopping. I’ll forget.
I am doomed!
Sal’s gone postal for the day. It’s her turn at the Post Office. Plane comes in at noon-ish and Sal sorts mail and gets to spend the next four or so hours greeting islanders as they come in to get books, bills and cheques. Seemed like a good way to meet everyone when she signed up but well, she knows everyone now and so it is a bit more of an obligation. “Oh well”, she rationalizes, “I get away from that stupid Dave for a few hours.”
Those five or so hours are pretty hard on me, though.
This time the benefits for the postal worker are almost outweighed by the negatives. It is pouring with rain. Visibility is poor. A storm is scheduled for later and she is in a 12 foot open boat coming home in the dark. For most people, that is a daunting prospect. Not Sal. Flying over waves and getting soaked is all part of the fun. Sally manages to make ordinary life into an extreme sport – and I stopped trying to keep up a decade ago.
But I’ll stand on the deck and look worried starting at about 4:30 pm. I am the overly concerned ‘responsible one’ in this situation but I’ll play that role from the comfort of a dry, warm home.
Maybe pour myself a glass of wine to help with the stress.
Looks like it will an ordinary day in paradise, just a bit wet for the ol’ pudding.