I Was Specific in My Request



I believe that if you set specifications on a request, you have set limits to that request. I said my prayers. I asked to help me be more patient with my husband. Is that what I got? No.

Asking for such a thing I know means that I will be given an 'opportunity' for growth. I figured growth with my husband is a good thing-and one that I am still working at. Is that what happened? NO! After he left for work this morning I haven't seen or spoken with him; haven't interacted with him; and nothing has gone 'wrong' that I can blame on him.

On my way home from work I was going to stop and pick up a new table cloth, but couldn't find a close/easy parking spot so decided I didn't have time to waste. I did stop at the bank and made a deposit-this was time I knew I had, the wait was not long. Then I stopped at the store. I had promised to take half a dinner to a family and was assigned a salad and a dessert.

I shopped quickly and got to the check stand. I did NOT have my debit card (we're in the process of switching banks and the debit card from the new account is not due until later this week). I did NOT have my checkbook with the three measly checks left before the new order arrives later this week. I did NOT have my charge card (I took it out of my wallet on purpose-so I wouldn't charge things I want but don't have to have).

Stupid. Can we say not smart. I thought I bathed this morning did I really still have a big "L" on my forehead?

So I tell the cashier my error and that I live seven minutes away. I'll be right back. On my way home I'm processing, looking at the clock and realizing I don't have enough time to fix the dessert mix I had bought (lemon bars). I'm stuck behind someone who is afraid to turn out onto the highway from the store parking lot.

I wait...
and wait...
and finally. Whew they go. Slight tap on pedal and I go.

I know if I get the cake in the oven it can be cooking while I prepare the remainder of my portion of the meal.

I get home, I turn on the oven, I run downstairs and grab a lemon cake mix. I crack the 3 eggs into the bowl and of course I get shell in it. I get shell in my mixing bowl about once every 90th time so of course it had to happen now.

Have you ever chased a piece of egg shell around a bowl trying to separate it from the egg mass? Try it. It's fun.

I get a spoon out (with my slimy hands-I HATE having dirty or slimy hands) and finally capture the egg shell. I am again processing.

I have to go back to the store and get the remainder of my purchase. Do I buy canned frosting for it? No, I will have 5 minutes after the cake is done before my cohort arrives for us to take the dinner over. The cake cannot cool in that length of time. So option 2 is to get some powdered sugar and sprinkle it across the top. Yes! I have a Tattered Angels glimmer screen I can use which will leave an interesting and fun pattern on top.

Still processing. If I get the stuff from the store I can wash the lettuce and strawberries and let them drain while I run downstairs to get the bucket of powdered sugar.

I return to the store. En route I find the drivers who want to go slow. They're only going seven blocks so why get up to speed? I can give them a good reason, but they're not listening. I know this for a fact. I was talking and they weren't listening.

The slow driver turns off and the next two cars after it pick up their speed, but not the third one, the one in front of me. Three blocks later the first two make it through the green light, it turns yellow and then as it's turning red the third car runs it. Guess who got to stop for the red light?! Two guesses, and the first one does NOT count!

Fortunately it's a short light. I get to the store, walk up to the cashier, she finishes with a customer and starts helping the next one, THEN she notices me and tells me to just get in line behind that lady. I find two road blocks I will have to get around and finally make my way through one of them only to find that someone else has slipped gently next in line.

patience. patience.

The next cashier over is finishing with her one customer so I get in line over there and grab my grocery bag from the other cashier with a brief explanation, "Her line's shorter."

It's my turn! I'm almost done! She takes one look at the receipt and says, "I'll have to call a manager."

wait. wait. wait.

But the manager doesn't come.

patience. patience.

Another customer comes up-a guy old enough that he has to buy ripe bananas. She says, "Let me help this gentleman."

patience.

As she rings up the second item, the manager comes. "Let me finish with this gentleman. I need your numbers to override this transaction." The manager waits for a moment and almost walks away.

patience. patience.

The old guy starts punching buttons on the keypad... and punches... and punches... Then he starts writing his name. Takes him quite a while to do that too.

patience. patience.

The manager again turns like she's going to walk away. Can I legally do a block tackle to insure she stays put?

I can't believe this comedy of errors. Will this nightmare ever end? Doesn't anyone realize I am trying to do a service for someone? And all I'm getting are all of these trials of patience.

patience. patience.

Finally, my turn, everything goes fine and the purchase is made, paid for, and I'm on my way.

Again. I find every slow poke who can't drive straight on my way home.

I bring the bucket of powdered sugar upstairs, write the labels for the dishes, get the cake out of the oven, put it into the freezer and set the timer for four minutes. I assemble the salad. Slice the strawberries. Sprinkle blanched slivered almonds, crystallized ginger pieces, olive oil, balsamic vinegar on the salad. Get the small strainer out, pry the lid off the powdered sugar with the bung wrench, pull the cake out of the freezer, shake it from the pan, plop it right side up on the plate, place the glimmer screen on the cake, shake the powdered sugar all over it, place the lid on the salad and get it in a carry bag, pick up the cake to do the same with it when the doorbell rings and the dog starts barking his fool head off.

patience.

I finish getting the cake in the bag, grab the dogs leash and escort him to the garage, grab the carry bag and greet my cohort at the front door. She is right on time, and so am I.

Patience may be a virtue and if any of you find out where it's hiding, clue me in because I'm still looking for it.

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