This picture is of me driving to the high school for the second time before 8:30 AM with a piece of bread and butter on the hood of my car. I'm not sure how breakfast became attached to the car. In our defense, it is Monday.
It was cloudy and sad. The road was gray and the sky was gray and the air was gray. Both girls had forgotten something they needed. I had five hours sleep the night before. Five hours of sleep and two cups of coffee does not equal eight hours of sleep with one cup of coffee. (Can someone solve the equation 5hrs sleep + x = 8 hrs sleep ?)
Before I found a place to stop the bread and butter had flung itself into the wide world to seek its fortune; it was probably eaten by a crow. There’s a reason no one writes stories from the point of view of a slice of bread and butter. It’s too horrible and sad…but my lack of sleep combined with excessive amounts of coffee has caused me to digress…
I came to the stoplight and sat there contemplating the possibility of escape down the road before me…a nice drive to someplace warm…you know…the way you do some days when you live with teenagers. Wondering if I needed to go home for a suitcase…wondering if anyone would remember to feed the dog.
And then I thought about the possibility of being someplace else, that fantasy place where all the houses look like cottages and there’s a beach, and cozy bars and no Walmart or strips malls. That place you think about on a cloudy Monday morning when you’re planning to run away.
And then the sun came out and lit everything up the way it does. A monster truck rammed its way through the yellow light and a fountain of dirty water sprayed up and the sun hit it and that Dodge Truck was trailing a rainbow. And I thought….alright. I’ll wait until tomorrow. Maybe I’ll take the dog.