Lunchbunch

May 23, 2013

Does anyone know just how far four blocks actually is? My arms are still trembling as a result of crutching from the library, seemingly spitting distance away from the house. I sat a bit on a welcoming stoop, a bit farther on cement blocks of stairs then leaned insufferably just a block away from my destination against a rigid light pole. My bad leg tingles as though it has been asleep throughout this entire journey and is just now waking up to join in on the fun. I had the leg promiscuously propped up on a chair as my companion, at the quiet and serene library, drowning in sensible indoor/outdoor blue/gray carpeting with firm wooden chairs, and quite a number of computers available for internet use.

Lunchables sound good right now though I have never had the opportunity to taste one, I am craving the foodish items housed in a neat plastic tray, divided logically into sections of pseudo cheese, dim crackers, machine-cut wedges of fake meat and nibbles of carrots or something that might resemble a vegetable. The children on the commercials seem so cheered and satisfied with their Lunchables, begging their mothers to purchase them for a month of tomorrows.

I settle for a small bowl of roasted veggies accompanied by squash soup that did the trick after a hearty drink of fresh water and hot tea to follow. Tyrus had been lying in the sunshine since my arrival, awaiting the mail carrier while a woman with a small child voiced her complaint that a “Big dog shouldn’t be allowed to run loose” though he was miles away from them, clearly minding his own business. Poor Ty, a victim of his vast size. 

Asked the wide but helpful frizzy-haired woman behind the yawning  library desk if they happen to have a reading program for the neighborhood kids during the summer months. I would like to volunteer, I suggested, and spread my wealth of adventure through books. As a young grade school child, I checked out the absolute library limit each week, stacks of books about animals I could barely get home on my own fruition. Anything would do from Where the Red Fern Grows to Old Yeller, Rascal, Black Beauty, Rin Tin Tin, Swiss Family Robinson, My Friend Flicka, little people who lived in the floor of someone’s house and created such mischief, etc…the details get buried in my brain somewhere behind all of the cell phone numbers, Social Security number, old addresses, bank account numbers and multiple languages.

My brain feels full, how do I get rid of some of that to make space for the rest of my life? I just now acquired yet another library card with a six digit number password. Impossible to file it all away and have it readily available in a split second. I filled-out an application to be a volunteer through the library and hope the phone numbers for my references that spilled-out are correct. Maybe chocolate would help.

Drowning in mutiny today. I do not want to stay off the phone. I have used up all of the free minutes for the month and am informed I have ten more days in this trap. Why can’t the company give me a complimentary birthday 24 hours? The next step up is over $100. Talking to myself or Tyrus just isn’t the same as complaining to my friends and family over the phone. Oh well, internet access will certainly help the yearning to be insubordinate

I left the house and no one would know where I am. The house phone would ring endlessly, echoing through the rooms but you had to try back another time and eventually you could speak with your friend. No cordless wonders, long curly cords followed you as far as they could stretch into the hall and behind a closed door to speak in privacy, a busy signal prevents you from getting through and again, you have to call back, no call-waiting, no forwarding, no three way conference options. It was a different ballgame, how did we get to this place of adjusting to the fear of being out of communication? Snippets of information cross the screen, more often than not confusing the recipient with incomprehensible words and phrases. Twice as many text messages required to clear up the mumbo jumbo. Ahhh turns into Hajr?