It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, actually, it was almost dark and kind of drizzly, but wet enough that I didn't want to stand in it. I pushed my overflowing grocery cart out to the car, anticipating standing under the open hatch to keep my self dry.
As I pushed the cart off the sidewalk, I checked to make sure none of my bags was slipping. The cup o noodles balanced nicely on top of the bag of dog food. The canvas grocery bags fit nicely inside with cart with plastic bags perched atop.
Then it happened. A plastic bag slipped from the corner of the cart and hit the ground with a sploosh.
A quart of cherry yogurt splotted everywhere, covering the cans of juice that shared its bag and spilling out into a pink sludgy river. I scooped up the bag and carried it in one hand, pushing my overfilled cart with the other.
What a waste. A whole quart of yogurt sacrificed on the wet pavement. I felt the loss.
But not as much as I did earlier this week when a powerpoint production I'd worked on for two hours didn't get shown because...
...I forgot to send it as an attachment.
Two hours down the drain. Two grains of sand in the hourglass.
Gone.
What a waste.
1 comment:
Again, you were born that way, and you are still you daddy's girl.
I too resent the loss of time and effort at such moments much more than the "spilt milk", or in your case, cherry yogurt (same thing, really).
In fact, such calamity hurts now more than ever, as I don't have that many more hours to waste either recklessly or by accident.
Assign all the blame and fault and other causes you can, but in the last analysis the underlying culprit - again - is the ubiquitous plastic bag.
There... you are completely absolved - again.
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