...or perhaps farce? When it comes to my life, at least. I was recently in Meijer restocking my apartment's liquor corner. The last time I did this it was May or June, and somehow over the subsequent months my guests and I have managed to drink in such a perfectly proportionate fashion that I've run out of all my supplies at once. So I'm walking around the grocery store with a basket of booze (and some bananas and green beans, I think) slung over my arm, and who should I bump into but the superlatively kind and straight-laced parents of one of my favorite students. They see me (despite my sweatshirt/vest/scarf scrubby college kid ensemble) before I recognize them, and we chat for five minutes. The whole time, I'm casually inching my basket from its rather conspicuous position and trying to move it out of their field of vision. I'm pretty sure it doesn't really matter that they saw what I was buying, but I still felt a little guilty and awkward as I made my way toward the international foods aisle for some salsa (tragedy: 1 comedy 0).
In other news, today I went outside to put my trash in the bin, and found my back patio had turned into an icy slush lake. I usually don't mind a good morass of snow and water, but today I was only wearing flip-flops (my original plans had me heading somewhere NOT outside to switch my laundry), so wading around the side of the house was interesting. Actually, I felt like I was walking through World 6 of Super Mario Bros. 3, and it was surprisingly warm outside, so that adventure turned out much better than it could have (tragedy: 1 comedy: 1). Other tragical/comical/ironical/romatical/historical/heroical events as of late include: a bat coming (and the quickly going) from my apartment, Mossing's bridal shower carrying off well enough, and my accidental and temporary gluing together of my vocal chords (sort of). I suppose this is what happens when I have time on my hands and I don't want to research or write or read or grade or plan and there's nothing left to clean.
Final score: comedy: 3 tragedy: 2
...but who's really keeping track?
And, just because I like you so much, I will leave you in Eddie's competent and well-manicured hands as I finally make my way to bed.
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2 comments:
How did you glue your vocal chords?
i was leaning over a lampshade after supergluing part of it back together. the fumes kind of funnelled up, and i breathed in lungful of chemicals or glue particles or something. my throat was coated with awfulness for the rest of the night.
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