THINGS I HAVE ASKED MYSELF BEFORE NOON TODAY:
* Does it count as six kilometers if you had to drag an Australian shepherd for the last two because other dogs were everywhere?
* …where the fuck is the tofu?
* Did I turn the washer on?
* No, really, where is the tofu?
* Is that dog drool or…you know, let’s just not even ask.
* Did I remember to put coffee in the grounds basket? (Gods forgive me, I hadn’t.)
* WHAT DID I MEAN TO PUT ON THE GROCERY LIST?
* Do I really have to eat something? (I decided eating was bullshit and I had to get the shopping done before the drunks get on the road.)
* WHO MOVED THE FUCKING TOFU?
* Did I turn the washer on? (No, I hadn’t. It was sitting there, with clothes and soap, patiently waiting.)
* Where are the dogs? (“Underfoot” is always the answer. I tripped over one of them and almost fell on the other.)
* Oh. I moved the tofu. It’s already marinating. When did I do that?
* …wait, why do I have the beans on? (It’s chili night. I shouldn’t have bothered with the tofu.)
* Why isn’t that scene working? Who do I have to kill to make it work?
* Did I really just drop that? (Thank God it wasn’t glass. THAT time.)
* IT IS BEFORE NOON ON THE 3RD, WHY ARE SO MANY PEOPLE DRUNK ON THE ROAD?
* Was that sodden lump of something on the pavement a squirrel or a rabbit? (I don’t know, it was already dead and in the middle of the road and I was going thirty miles an hour, it was hard to tell.)
* Should I figure out how to go back and scrape it up and bury it? (No, I’d get run over. SHUT UP, CONSCIENCE.)
* Am I going to drop this bottle of shampoo/bottle of mineral water/bottle of rye whiskey/package of ten bars of soap/bunch of bananas/any other random thing I’m holding?
* Is that woman going to let both of her young children careen around the grocery store unsupervised while she’s on her phone? (Oooh, ouch, that one just tried to run over an old man…)
* Is that woman on the phone talking about Kenny Chesney? Who talks about him for more than thirty seconds AT MOST, AND ONLY IF FORCED TO?
* Why am I dropping everything I touch?
* When will I hit my absurdity limit and find all this funny? (Hint: it happened at about 11am. Since then, well, you get the idea.)
* Seriously, do I have to wash my bra when I get home?
* WHERE IS THE TOFU…wait, don’t tell me…
* Did I forget my debit card? Please tell me I didn’t forget my debit card.
* Do they suddenly not stock oatmeal here? (No, they do, I was right in front of it and if it was a venomous animal, I’d be dead.)
* Huh. Is that pair of small children with tiny shopping carts pretending to be cats or racer drivers? (They tried to take out another elderly man, but he was too quick for them.)
* Wow. Is that woman with them STILL on the phone? (Yes. Yes she was.)
* Is it worth telling the woman on her phone that her hellspawn children are going to get her sued?
* Did I remember tofu?
* What else was on the list? (The list had been left in the car, because it was Just That Kind Of Morning.)
* GOD DAMN IT, WHAT ELSE WAS ON THE LIST?
* …was it mouthwash? (It was. That was my one victory. Remembering the mouthwash.)
* Did I really just use the evil eye on those two small children with their tiny shopping carts? (I did.) Is that woman still on the phone? (She was.) Did the evil eye work? (It did. Until they got to the checkout.)
* Should I put the whiskey back? (Don’t be an idiot, Lili. You’re going to need that shit.)
* Did I just make a Gloria Gaynor reference to my checker? (I did.)
* Did the checker just laugh and knock over a bottle of mineral water? (She did.)
* Did we both stand there laughing like loons? (Yes. Yes we did.)
* Did those children scamper out into the parking lot and get run over by a black Escalade? (Almost. I shouted, another woman lunged to catch the taller/older child almost by the hair, the taller/older child had realized something was wrong and grabbed the smaller one’s arm, and that motherfucking woman with them was STILL on the phone. Didn’t even thank the Good Samaritan. But I did.)
* I only wore my brassiere for an hour and a half, do I really have to wash it?
Fortunately, my clumsiness was funny to me, my patience lasted, I decided I did not need to launder my brassiere, the tofu will keep until lunch tomorrow, I killed no-one, and I do not have to leave the house on the Glorious Fourth AT ALL. And at least the two small children with the tiny shopping carts (and mother STILL on the goddamn phone babbling something Kenny Chesney) were safely in their own car the last I saw.
Now I have to go check the fridge. I am possessed of a completely irrational, sneaking suspicion that the tofu has been moved…