Life Imitating Art

You know how, in the beginning of Joe vs. the Volcano, Tom Hanks is trudging through a parking lot toward his job at the petroleum factory? And it's gray and gloomy and dull and it feels like he's walking towards death? And then he steps in a giant puddle?

That's sort of how I felt today, going back to school after Fall Break.

That sequence was running through my head this morning as I rolled over to bust up my alarm clock, which was going off thirty minutes earlier than usual on account of I have BUS DUTY this week. Ugh! It's bad enough that I have to get out of bed at ALL, but EARLY? So I can get to SCHOOL that much sooner? I don't have any attractive words for that.

It was a dreary drizzly day today, too, so I had THAT to contend with on top of the ungodly hour AND the struggle to re-find my grind. Plus, I forgot to set the timer on my coffeemaker, so you KNOW I had some unkind things to say about that.

It didn't get better as I shuffled into the school building. I dropped my stuff in my classroom and headed off to the gym, where the students slowly plodded in; I noticed an eerie similarity to the freaky scenes in a zombie movie where dead folks start coming out of the ground and groaning at you: "Uuuuhhhnnn. UUUUhhhhn," like they're constipated babies, and their faces are expressionless and the flourescent lights do NOTHING, believe me, to flatter their dead complexions. Fortunately, I was in no danger of having my brains eaten, as I had not yet consumed enough caffeine to claim full functionality of all my bodily organs.

There was no noticeable improvement as the day progressed.

Apparently, I did NOT unlock my door, as I thought I had, so my entire third period class was waiting out in the hall for me, since I had run to make some copies between classes. I had to ask the assistant principal to unlock the door, and I had to endure my students' teasing remarks, and of course I was in no mood for that.

Later, I went to WalMart to buy some staples--milk, cereal, Diet Coke. Not only were there huuuuge lines at every cashier station, but the self-checkouts were out of order. Of course!

So I hauled myself into the express checkout, where the woman in front of me CLEARLY had more than 20 items (I am a stickler for this, ever since I was a cashier myself) and then WROTE A CHECK and, this is going to sound incredibly rude and off-putting, and obviously this is a generational thing and perhaps an issue with my own impatience, but ... WHO WRITES CHECKS AT WALMART???

I finally made it through the checkout, and wouldn't you know it, just then it started pouring rain. It looked like monsoon season out there. Fortunately, I had brought my umbrella into the store, because I just KNEW this would happen, so I pushed the button and it popped out and I was fine and dandy, walking my cart to the car.

And then my umbrella blew inside out. I didn't know that could happen outside of Mary Poppins, but evidently, it can. TWICE.

That is why, as I write this, I keep hearing these Tennessee Ernie Ford:

You load sixteen tons, what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store

If you see me comin', better step aside
A lotta men didn't, a lotta men died
One fist of iron, the other of steel
If the right one don't a-get you
Then the left one will.

And the best part is ... I get to do it all again tomorrow.