We all seem to insist on how busy, busy, busy we constantly are. Let’s put things in perspective: tell us about the craziest, busiest, most hectic day you’ve had in the past decade.
There’s no question that it was the day I moved back to Vermont from Maryland. It didn’t help that I was on a med that totally spaced me out. My nephew Nate (who knew when he was a little kid that he would turn out so cool?) flew in from California to drive me and my three cats, since I was in no condition to do so.
It poured almost the whole way and we used his iPod and my thingy to play Grateful Dead through the radio most of the way. But when we got to Vermont, there was no free channel for the transmitter to play the iPod on my radio without interference. So we switched to VPR and got public radio talk for the last hundred miles. He was not amused.
He also didn’t like that I kept getting him to stop so I could check on the cats in the back seat. They were in better shape than I was. When we finally landed in the Burlington area and found the house of the friend who was going to give me a bed until I found a place to live, he and I were sniping at each other in frustration. It was nothing that a good meal at a local Chinese restaurant couldn’t fix. He had a couple of beers and mellowed out. I was back where I wanted to be, and I chilled. But I had never been so weary in my life. In the morning we unloaded the car, took the cats to the boarding kennel, and took him to fly back to California.
It took me a while to realize it, but I was home again. And the horrible day was the price I had to pay to get there.