I made some progress the other night with the punching bag. I got into a good rhythm and felt pretty confident. And powerful – which for all my bluster I’m not really used to feeling. I paused for a moment to catch my breath and adjust the hand-wraps when I noticed that there was a little pink color on the cloth.
Frowning, I investigated further – thinking I hadn’t wrapped my knuckles properly and was bleeding. But, my hands were fine – no blood.
The pink color was coming from the red bag.
I had punched the color off it.
More likely is that I had sweat a bit and the moisture had leached a little dye off the canvas.
Still, I felt a little bad-ass. Which is entirely the point.
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That bad ass feeling didn’t last, though. I wasn’t feeling great at work yesterday and then got stuck in all kinds of traffic when I foolishly decided to run some errands after work. My last stop was to the drugstore for something to help with the sinus pressure.
The were about 17 million different varieties of medicine on the shelves and a couple more million represented by cards you had to take to the pharmacy to buy.
I stood there, scanning the labels and boxes for a bit – growing more frustrated. Finally, I picked up one of the cards that looked promising and took it to the counter.
I asked if this would help with sinus pressure and the clerk at the counter had to check. She then went looking for the box, had to ask about that, was told the box was red and replied that all the boxes were red.
I waited.
She came back, asked for my driver’s license – which I already had out, naturally – and proceeds to scan that to start ringing up the sale.
But, of course, I had to “prove” that I wasn’t going to take this home and make meth out of it.
So, a couple of screens of text, a check box, and a signature. Then discount card questions, a couple other things I can’t even remember, and finally the actual payment.
When I was done getting through all that and had completed the transaction, I raised my hands in victory and gave about a 1/25 volume shout – all I could manage. The clerk smiled and I told her I should get a sticker just for getting through all that.
As I headed out, it occurred to me that this could have been prevented by having a button the clerk could select labeled:
“He looks terrible, but I don’t think it’s meth.”
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I took the day off today and spent most of it asleep. Just me and the cat, curled up and trying to rest.
I think I’ll fix myself some dinner and spend the evening not checking my email.
Ah, bliss.