It’s been another week of discombobulatedness.
That theme I was brewing last week? Still brewing. Not everything goes according to plan. Sometimes very little goes according to plan.
Friday I was being all efficient, or so I thought. Errand 1 … check. Errand 2 … a bust. Item 3 …
Item 3 …
Anyone … anyone …
Bueller … Bueller …
I’ve been nailed by this phenomenon before, but I didn’t have time for it this particular day. For a couple months now there have been signs on either end of New Albany warning of nightly lane closures from 6pm to 6am. Fine. So when one is trying to make it to an appointment in the campus area at 10am … should be smooth sailing, right? Scoot into town right after rush hour. Easy peasy, right?
You assumed! Never assume!
The construction gods were not smiling upon me, and the freeway was down to one lane inbound, thereby turning the road into more of a parking lot than something where forward progress is actually made.
I had Nigel the GPS fired up for the sole purpose of predicting my arrival time. Eventually I had to admit that not even the hot British voice emanating from my phone could work the space-time continuum in my favor. I called from the parking lot, I mean freeway, and let them know I wouldn’t be there.
Planned item 4 for the day was meeting up with my sister for a movie later that morning. Whilst I contended with the Giant Parking Lot of New Albany she checked alternatives on her phone. We could hit Easton instead of campus if the movie times worked.
But they didn’t.
I was headed toward Easton by then – instead of taking the usual northern route – so okay, I’ll head in 670 and drink coffee and read next door until movie time.
|Is it just me, or does the sign seem to indicate Theatres 2-5 are in the men’s room???|
Fast forward to the end of the movie, which we thoroughly enjoyed. There weren’t a ton of people in the theater – it was an 11:40am weekday show. The credits were just starting to roll, and of course we were staying for the credits because often there’s bonus footage afterward. And I want to see the credits. And I like having a minute to contemplate what I’ve just experienced. It’s what you do.
A couple of older ladies entered the theater, presumably for the next showing. They were completely oblivious to the fact that people were still watching the movie. Oh the confusion. And the lack of silence.
“Completely oblivious” is not an exaggeration. They could have shut up and waited at the door. They could have sat quietly in nearby empty seats. One can always move to a better seat after the lights are up.
Out of maybe four or five partly occupied rows out of what, maybe twenty in the entire house … they chose ours. We assumed (oh never assume) they would sit at the end and stop the ruckus.
Oy vey, they climbed past my sister and then me. “We’re still watching the movie,” may have been uttered, but I’m not sure our seasoned citizens had their hearing aids turned up sufficiently.
At this point I assumed (oh here we go again) they’d choose seats a couple down from me.
This lady would have squished my purse with her behind had I not snatched up my bag at the last second.
My personal space had been invaded. My olfactory senses were being hit with the smell of a large popcorn almost in my face. And … wait for it … germophobia won’t stop us from practically sitting on strangers in dark movie theaters (okay, that sounds really bad, sorry), but it will make us bust out the hand sanitizer.
Popcorn and hand sanitizer. Anyone hungry for lunch?
They never did stop talking.
|Creeper shot of the Golden Girls Gang.|
The rest of the afternoon went reasonably according to plan. Refreshing.
|After inhaling a popcorn/hand sanitizer combo, you know what’s refreshing? Something with the word “chunks” in the name.|
Don’t get too comfortable, though. The plan only held for a couple of hours.
Only minor annoyances ensued. Like a five minute errand taking more like thirty-five thanks to what was lined up in front of me. But then while standing in line I discovered my spirit animal is now available as a plush toy.
|Somebody buy me one of these.|
I’ve become accustomed to things not going according to plan. My plan anyway. I dodge and I weave and I adjust and I change. And at some point I don’t even remember what the plan was. Or whether it mattered.
I was struck the other day by Brennan Manning’s paraphrase of Colossians 3:11:
There is only Christ: he is everything.
And then this C.S. Lewis quote spoken in a eulogy last night …
“But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret Master of the Ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples "Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you," can truly say to every group of Christian friends "You have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another." The Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauties of all the others. They are no greater than the beauties of a thousand other men; by Friendship God opens our eyes to them. They are, like all beauties, derived from Him through the Friendship itself, so that it is His instrument for creating as well as for revealing. At this feast it is He who has spread the board and it is He who has chosen the guests. It is He, we may dare to hope, who sometimes does, and always should, preside. Let us not reckon without our Host.”
There is only Christ: he is everything.
For more So Yeah, About That thoughts see Sue Bowles at bebold7.wordpress.com and Leisa Herren at life4inga.blogspot.com.
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