i had 2 tasks today: download the new jack white album and buy the new stephen king novel. a few years ago this would have been a great day indeed--2 of my favorite artists releasing material on the same day. yay! well, this is not a few years ago and so today went like this:
paced the house anxiously dreading the bookstore (who EVER saw that coming?!) and tried hard to convince myself to use my remaining birthday money (in the form of an itunes gift card) to download the book to my ipad and skip the album therefore saving money and a trip to barnes and noble. i got ready anyway, walked winston, headed out to west end with the knowledge that if i got there and couldn't go in that i could always come back home and read the damn ebook.
i get there and, great day in the morning, there's a parking spot! you nashvillians know how impossible that vanderbilt parking lot is. it was a sign i suppose. i made it inside and instantly my hopes of finding the book sitting on the "new release" table were dashed. it was nowhere. everyone in the new store (it just opened after the borders that used to be there folded) was busy. i had to hunt through the store (both floors) which now appears to be the actual vanderbilt university bookstore--as in all the text books, sweatshirts, electronics and paraphernalia is on display. i was anxious about the new surroundings and i still couldn't find the book. i finally had to ask and one of the employees found it on a cart in the back.
i realized as i walked though the cafe with my iced coffee that i was getting some looks. since the flood i've joked that i feel like i have "flood victim" or "prone to panic attacks" or "PTSD" tattooed on my forehead because my anxiety makes me a little paranoid and ultra vulnerable. i quickly remembered that i was standing in the middle of all these vandy students and i had on a white t-shirt with a huge orange "T" on both the front and back. it was not my status as trauma survivor that was garnering all the attention it was my allegiance to the university of tennessee, and it's unmistakable orange, smack-dab in enemy territory. i got out of there in one piece, no thanks to a rude man, who not only didn't hold the door for me, but nearly knocked me over on his way in. it was so egregious in fact that a young guy came out after me and commented on it. his kindness thus saving the aforementioned man from my wrath.
i rushed home as i always do after such outings with shaky hands and pounding heart, driving much too fast and running from and toward nothing in particular but my own anxious thoughts and fears. i did get a little laugh as i was in the midst of a near tourette's screaming fit at a honda doing 55 in front of me in the fast lane. yes, 55 is the speed limit, but "i can't drive 55!" as i passed the car on the right, mid-scream, i turned to taunt the driver of said honda when i saw 2 nuns. the nun driving had her hands at 10 and 2 and the nun in the passenger seat was holding rosary beads. i'm not even kidding! it was hilarious to me. i laughed a good long while at that one. as long my, by now, pounding head would allow.
when i got home i downloaded the jack white and walked winston. by the time i got inside it was 2:30 and my head was splitting! from then until now i've been on the couch in the fetal position. i don't know if it's stress, my ever-worsening eyesight, my allergies or my lackluster diet of late but i've been in severe pain. so much so that i have neither listened to my new album or read a word of my long-awaited, difficult to come by, new book.
i just keep hearing ferris bueller's words over and over in my head, "how's that for being born under a bad sign?"
grace and peace
