Today was one of those days where my carefully laid plans got derailed (or in this case, washed away).
My plans were to get up early and meet with Anne Sanders over at Helping Hearts for breakfast. I was, of course, riding my bicycle in my ongoing effort to save the planet and live simply. I pedaled from the house at the crack of dawn, my noble intentions shining over my head like a halo (in my mind anyways).
Five minutes into my ride the sky just opened up and dumped two and a half tons of cold rain water on my head. I pedaled to the nearest shelter, noble intentions dissolving into a slushy, sputtering mess of swearing under my breath.
I started my journey as a revolutionary protesting societies’ dependence on oil. I slid under an overhang five minutes later bedraggled, disillusioned and ready to jump in the first Humvee that opened its door.
I called Marcia to tell her my situation and she very sweetly came to my rescue. She found me at Walmart perusing the camping aisle for rain gear. Off we went to our breakfast, my bike getting a rest in the back of her truck. So much for all my freedom from oil. We discussed Smart Cars and hybrids while I dripped dry in her passenger seat.
In my soaked and humbled state I wound up canceling my Thursday at the Gallery and even furthered my humiliating defeat by borrowing my daughter’s car to go pick up the reading flier for this weekend. The rain may have won this time, but I have a poncho now and I demand a rematch.
But just not tomorrow.