Thanks For The Fun

I woke up from one of my afternoon naps, realizing I had had a good time at Family Dollar today.  This, after chatting with the Almighty the other day about the problems involved with finding one where I want to go.


Shopping has become anathema to me.  Just about the time grocery stores became singles trolling stations, my "pettist" (my own word invention) of pet peeves, I also ran out of money for anything much but groceries.  I'd almost rather have a root canal than stop for a couple of items.


I had to go to the library today to make some copies.  My printer, not satisfied that it had been notifying me for the last two years that it is not communicating with my computer, has now developed a paper jam using invisible paper.  I don't know what its problem is.  First, it doesn't get along with the hardware and now it doesn't want to do anything for the operator either.


So, to the library I must go --  with a total of 94 cents change and a slew of papers to copy.  I finally whittled down the slew to required items only and left the place with 14 cents.


My micromanager, the Almighty, seemed to be pushing for a quick stop at Family Dollar instead of a long trip to Aldi, so I acquiesced.  Or, was it just my subconscious that wanted the easy route?  I loaded up on a twelve pack of cola, eggs, a gallon a milk and a frozen pizza.  Then I stood in the everlasting long line.


While I was still shopping, I'd passed a man who greeted me in a friendly manner.  For a moment, I thought Buck O'Neill -- the sweetest man I ever met -- was back on this earth.  But he didn't look a thing like him.


Then the lady in front of me turned out to be a likeable Chatty Cathy.  She informed me she told her son she needed to go to the store for a few items and to see if she could find a rich man.  Then she gestured toward my purchases.


I said, "Well, yes, I got a few items, but I'm not even looking for a rich man."


Then she cracked me up by saying she'd take the money and forget about the man.


So would I, I thought.  So would I.  In fact, I often tell the Almighty that he placed me in jobs all my life where I did stacks and stacks of work for chicken feed.  Now, I wouldn't think it should hurt if He and the universe repaid me by retroactively sending the cash I should have earned back then.  I wouldn't turn down a lot of interest, either.


I guess a way out of poverty would be to search for that woman's rich one, but what would I do with him if I found him?  I already have that one baby bird that keeps trying to hop back in the nest and that's more than I can handle.


I guess between bouts of colitis, I could fit in a couple of extra loads of laundry.  But what would I do if I had to give up some of my daily naps to clean up after him?


So, no, lady, you can keep your rich man.  But thanks for being entertaining just the same.