A few weeks ago my wife and I needed to catch a plane from Seattle to Utah for vacation. We had recently moved to the Puget Sound area for a new job opportunity, and I wanted to maximize my work hours.
We planned out the trip so that she came out and picked me up and then headed to the airport. Traffic on a Friday, starting sometime before 4, is abysmal. Thankfully we could get into the carpool lane, but even then it was slow as molasses.
At some point we got stuck behind a motorcyclist with his lady-friend on the back seat who would only go 30 mph above what the neighboring traffic was traveling at, even though there no cars in sight in front of him. Grumble grumble grumble.
I was on my way home from work today when my wife called. I had just gotten on the shuttle bus and was on my way to a drop-off point where I would transfer to another station.
We talked for a while about how our day was going. In the mean time the bus stopped at a midpoint and several passengers disembarked.
As the shuttle got moving again, my wife and I got into a discussion about how much we love each other. Many days, regardless of how well or poorly the day went, we just can’t wait to see each other again.
Waiting in the airport concourse as my flight is starting to board. I am assigned to board in a late zone, and it seems like the attendants are taking forever to transition toward my zone.
My watch ticks to the next minute and I can see that I have been sitting here for a half hour. They have been boarding for over 15 minutes, now. Apparently someone needs extra assistance getting onboard, and I don't begrudge them the time. I'm sure that we will still depart ontime.
My brother was about to pour a large quantity of packing peanuts into a garbage bag that already contained some peanuts and I said, "Is that the least empty bag you could find?"
"Nope," as he pulled out a fresh bag.
Then my wife looked at me funny and started to laugh.
"I knew what you meant," chimed my brother.
Too late. Energy was already wasted sending blood to my face.
Lately, my wife and I have been borrowing a truck while we move many of our belongings to a storage unit. Our garage is still full of stuff so we cannot park either of our cars in it and we normally park both of our cars in the driveway. However, for the safety of our friend’s truck, we park it in the driveway with my wife’s car, and I park my car on a nearby street.
I stopped for some food and supplies on my way home. To save some time bringing in those items I parked my car in front of my house. I reminded myself that I needed to move the car after taking the trash out to the street.
