Nobody Bats 1000

They Can't All Be Remarkable (Day 87)

The dog knows what’s up, listen to the dog.

The day began with a plane crash. Literally. We heard it in the morning, a low sputtering, echoing off the clouds. I woke up thinking, well, that sounds bad.

It was a small cargo plane, one soul aboard, who apparently survived. He took off from Manchester airport, experienced trouble, turned around right above us and tried to make it back to the airport. He came down in a residential wooded area in Londonderry, just a few streets away from where our children’s librarian lives.

Starting your day hearing a plane about to crash kind of stinks. (Stinks worse for the pilot of course.)

Anyway, so the day started blah and just stayed blah. Cold and wet. Rainy. Dreary. Lots of little nit-picky things at work. Like the whole day felt like putting squares into round holes.

After, I stopped at Market Basket to pick up a steak bomb and some cereal for dinner, because on days like this you MUST throw culinary caution to the wind. The sub was good but the line was bad. I didn’t mind because it gave me time to hang out and decompress. A lady next to me got angry and started screaming at the poor sub-making girl about how it shouldn’t take that long to make a sub sandwich.

Imagine where you must be in your life to scream at a sandwich clerk in a super market. I felt bad and when my turn came, I said “I’m sorry she yelled at you.” I mean, I had nothing to do with it, but I felt obliged to say something. She just smiled. She looked tired as well. One of those days.

At home, the ladies were also beat. But the cereal was a hit so that helped. They went to bed early to read while I dragged the dog outside for a walk. My wife has morning duty with the dog and I have evening. Usually I like that, a gentle evening walk to shake out the day’s cobwebs. But this night was relentlessly wet. Everything just felt saturated. Even the dog would look up at me every few feet as if to say, do we have to do this?

I suppose at this stage of a retelling of the day, if you know me well enough, you know that generally what comes next is a way to make the mundane, well, remarkable.

But not today, I don’t think. I think maybe we’ll let today go… just, push it off-shore and let the wind take it away. Nothing overtly terrible happened. The pilot survived. I got my subs. The house is warm. And our wet coats will dry.

But… yeah, I’m going to give this one a pass. Let’s regroup tomorrow with a fresher start, with some leftovers in the fridge, with maybe a bluer sky. Take a long inhale. Get some sleep. Give it a rest. Reset. It’ll be fine.