It was a rainy, gray day. She sat alone in the house, her mood as
\ndrizzly as the weather outside her closed window. The house was stuffy,
\nbut she walked on her treadmill instead of braving the outside.
\nShe read a book while she walked, then kept reading on the old green
\nLa-z-boy in the living room until she’d finished the chapter.
\nAfter completing her morning routine, the small brunette sat at the
\ncomputer for an hour or two, working, playing games, writing comments
\non her cousins’ Xanga sites. It was a low-key day.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, she had a burst of motivation. Needing to get
\ngroceries, she moved downstairs to leave. But before she could
\nleave, a string of chores vied for her attention. She dried her
\nhair, cleaned the kitchen, cut coupons and checked supplies.
\nThen, finally, she was ready to leave. She put the garage door
\nup, just in time to see that the drizzle had changed to a steady
\ndownpour. She would need an umbrella. Luckily, she kept one
\nin the car. Loading up, she headed for Meijer where she spent the
\nnext hour meandering though the aisles, a running commentary filling
\nher head regarding which products she needed, which could wait until
\nnext week, what would be the quickest way to finish her shopping, what
\ncould possibly possess that woman to allow her 2 year old son to stand
\nin the seat of the cart and then leave it in the middle of the aisle so
\nI had to go back the way I came to get around them, and other such
\ngrocery store digressions. Finally, though, she finished, luckily
\nfinding an open checkout lane staffed by a young, very bored staff
\nmember. Then, braving the still-pouring rain, she filled her
\nbackseat with her grocery store purchases, stopped at the gas station
\nto fill her tank with $2.19\/gallon gasoline, and headed home for lunch.<\/p>\n
After lunch, she spent the still gray afternoon making spaghetti sauce
\nfor that night’s lasagna dinner and two different types of cookies
\n(choc. chip and peanut butter) before her husband came home from
\nwork. She made repeated trips to the computer for email
\ncommuniques as well. Then she began preparation for lasagna, at
\nwhich point she realized that she was out of lasagna noodles and had
\nnot bought them earlier that day. Much chagrined, she braved the
\nrain one more time to get the necessary ingredient and finally
\ncompleted the pasta dish. While it baked, she began the grading
\nwhich had waited patiently for her all day while her husband watched
\nthe Simpsons next to her on the couch. She completed dinner
\npreparations, set the table, and they partook of her afternoon’s
\nlabors. After the meal and with very aching feet, she began the
\nclean up process which required unloading and reloading the dishwasher
\nand hand cleaning the rest of the dishes so that her kitchen would not
\nbe a mess when she awakened the next morning to make coffee for her
\ngrateful husband. <\/p>\n
The day ended as it began: slowly. She finished the book she’d
\nread that morning, watched Eureka with her husband and made her way to
\nbed. Maybe tomorrow it would be sunny again. Maybe tomorrow
\nshe’d get her grading done. Maybe she would just take tomorrow as
\nshe had today…one rain drop at a time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It was a rainy, gray day. She sat alone in the house, her mood as drizzly as the weather outside her closed window. The house was stuffy, but she walked on her treadmill instead of braving the outside. She read … Continue reading