The Gaming Outpost

I had expected to come home from church yesterday (I have previously mentioned that I am currently part of a Seventh Day Baptist Church) and find time for my hour of study before my wife left for work and I in my turn took my son to his grandparents to start his classes.  I would then visit with my friend who is interested in seeing my newest books, and be home by midnight, maybe one in the morning at the latest.

I lost that intervening window, and nothing else went as planned either.

I am not complaining on the first point, at least, not too vociferously.  The church has fellowship meals, and I have not yet learned the pattern but am fairly confident that this week was a break in the pattern–more a fundraiser than a fellowship meal, that one of the youth groups struck a deal with a local sub shop which provided hoagies to be sold at $5 each by the group and bought at $3.50 each from the shop.  It’s a clever program, whereby the group prints coupons for free hoagies, sells them at $5 each, and then the store honors them (up to a deadline date) and pays for those which are cashed.  I bought one for myself to eat while visiting with members of the congregation, and one to take home–and then I wound up being gifted with enough “leftover” sandwiches that I did not have to worry about how to provide supper for those who would be left home.

Another substantial chunk of my time went to the fact that the tuxedo from the prom had to be returned by three o’clock.  Getting the wearer to collect all the pieces was a tooth-pull, and I made it with minutes to spare.

However, my transport client was not ready for transport, and needed to be prompted and advised on packing.  I stole half an hour for study time while he took care of the details, and hoped to get the rest in upon my return.  It was thus closer to four when we left the drive, and after four when we left the gas station.

That was when he realized, stroking his chin, that he had neglected to pack his razor.  This was a vital need.

What transpired from there is more than I can explain.  We returned home for the razor and ran into a minor crisis.  I called my wife for advice, but she had already received a call from my son and so came home from work to help manage the situation.  Once that was under control, it was after six, and it had been decided that she would join us for our trip; and it was after six thirty before we were actually making that trip; and she had left a minor crisis at work and had to stop “briefly” there to fill out the paperwork, which took another hour, so it was seven thirty before we were on the road.

This concerned me, because my mother goes to bed at nine.  However, I informed her of the delay, and she was very encouraging about it, and when we pulled in around eleven she fed us and organized us for the return trip.  We left shortly after midnight, and by three or three thirty I was too tired to continue driving safely, so my wife finished the journey.  We did not visit with my friend, because of course it was the one night this year that he had planned to go to bed early because he had an early morning.  That was disappointing, but really we could not have pushed things later.

There was also supposed to be a separate trip, returning another son to his brother’s so he could get to work today; given that we were talking to him at four thirty in the morning and he was supposed to be at work at eleven (I had thought it would be later), he opted to call out today and go back mid-week.  I had said that he should go with us in the afternoon if he expected to go, but everyone else somehow thought we would be back in plenty of time.  I am usually right about such things–that is, it always takes longer than I expect, but I already expect it to take longer than anyone else expects, so I’m the closest guess every time.

Speaking of things taking longer than I expect, I’ve got work to do, so I’d better get to the doing.

–M. J. Young