The Margaret Bus

I started today in a terrible mood.  There are times when I feel like Atlas with the whole world on my shoulders.  The Margaret Bus needed to leave Bob’s house by 6 a.m. to take Bobby to work.  For me, the timing stinks.  That gets me to Corpus at 6:20 a.m. which is too early to go to work.  The recourse is to come back to Portland for 30 minutes and with the price of gas?  You know that isn’t a good alternative.

I strode through the house with an Attitude, hurrying to feed the dogs and get out the door.  At 5:50 a.m., I gently and sweetly snarled “I love you” to Bob and grabbed my purse, phone, and—and where were my keys?

In minutes I had Bob and Bobby tossing desks and tables looking for the darn things.  With Halo the Hound of Hell, there was no telling where they might have been carted.  By 6:03, Bob said he’d call in late and drive Bobby to work.  I rode along in remorseful silence, embarrassed at my surly behavior in light of my lost keys. How arrogant of me to act like I am the only person who needs to be some place at a specific time!

Here’s one of the nice things about Bob.  He just deals with things.  He doesn’t do protracted sighs or resentful silence.  He isn’t paternalistic or patronizing.  “You lost your keys.  We need to find them.  In the meantime, let’s get Bobby to work. Then, we’ll find your keys.”  Here’s the situation; let’s find a solution.  Botta-bing; botta-boom.  What a relief to one who runs around like a crazed chicken guarding her brood of worry against a coyote.

Bobby was delivered, the keys were found, and Bob and I headed in opposite directions to work. 

Here’s the funny thing.  There was a messy accident on the causeway that backed up traffic for a couple of miles.  I’m talking property messy, not gory. 

Portland cops were watching in detached silence as people squeezed their cars from 3 lanes to 1 lane.  It was nuts.  Drivers in the far left hand lane were holding their ground like Black Friday shoppers in line at 3 a.m. in front of Best Buy.  I managed to wedge my car in between two vehicles, the driver behind loudly honking and doing the 1 finger wave.

When lanes opened, my gesturing friend behind my car roared past, continuing to wave and honk.  I saw the notice on her back windshield:  Relax!  Enjoy!  Texas Massage Therapy.  Call for an appointment. 

Thank you very much.  I think I’ll have to pass.

About texasgaga

I am a mom, a grandmom (Gaga to my 2nd oldest grand-child), a sister, a friend, a construction estimator, a homeowner, an active member of a 12 step recovery group, an artist, a reader, a survivor, a do it yourself wannabe, a laugher
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2 Responses to The Margaret Bus

  1. All Ducked Up says:

    Oh, the irony of that sticker!

    I loved this one because it reminds me of my hubby & me…neither one of us is good about always being the calm one, but we do at least take turns freaking out. I’m really enjoying getting to know you through these posts.

    • texasgaga says:

      I know! I don’t know if I’d want that woman to give me a massage.
      I like getting to know you, too, through texts, emails, FB and the blogs. Love you bunches!

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