dianaschnuth

Well, in preparation for tomorrow’s Buckeye High School Class Reunion in beautiful Medina, Ohio, I felt the need to run some errands this evening. First, put a few bucks’ worth of gas in the Contour (aka the running-errands-while-the-spouse-is-at-work car). Second, get money out of my checking account (preferably at a Sky ATM). Third, purchase some stuff from Meijer, including:

+ Jones soda (picnic is BYOB)
+ thermometer (one of those things you don’t think of until you’re sick)
+ more Meijer Non-Drowsy Severe Cold (you only get, like, two days’ worth of meds!)
+ AA batteries (for the digital camera, noich)

This mission I accomplished with the navigational assistance of my husband, who told me before he left for work where I would need to turn to get where I needed to be. So, for the benefit of the Toledo-savvy (Sheryl and Aaron), I successfully went:

+ up South to Byrne to the Citgo on Byrne and Airport
+ up Byrne some more to Glendale, right turn, to the Sky Bank at Glendale and Cass
+ up Glendale some more, knowing Reynolds was up there somewhere, left turn toward Meijer
+ up Holland accidentally instead of Reynolds to get home, but it’s just as well, since that’s how I go home from work anyway, and I avoided the weird construction.

Amazing how simple things like navigating your relatively new hometown can bolster your self-esteem.

Yeesh. I really need to do something about that self-esteem, then.

There comes a point, when admiring one’s friends and their happiness and well-being, that one ceases to be happy for one’s friends and begins to be unhappy for oneself.

Or, to put it in the vernacular: Damn, I’m jealous.

That is all.

It should NOT take me an hour to get home to Toledo from BG. It should not.

Now, I’ll admit, I gladly drove 50 mph when I could barely see the SUV in front of me even with the wipers on high. But there were several places between the Lucas County line and home where traffic was slowed or stopped for no goddamned good reason.

As I was approaching the corner of Hill and Holland-Sylvania, just about 20 minutes after I would normally be home, I saw Aaron driving the opposite direction. I caught his eye—he was about to turn left onto the road I was on, and I was about to turn right onto the road he was on. We waved to each other, and as he turned left and drove past me, he warned, “Be careful—there’s deep water down Hill,” which was the road he’d just come from. I barely had time to yell “thanks” before he was gone.

And he was right. The most potentially treacherous part of my journey home was the least congested, and I felt perfectly fine going 15 mph or so through the almost-wheel-deep water.

But everyplace else—I-475, Airport and Holland-Sylvania, and my entire trip down Holland-Sylvania—WTF?! Get your heads out of your asses, people. It’s just a thunderstorm.

Holy crap. I just got done with an hour-long IM conversation with Jamie. I was still on his buddy list, and he IM’ed me out of the freakin’ blue.