Slow start

Do you ever have that kind of a day when you are behind with everything?

I was more than half way to the office when I realized I had forgotten something and I had to go back home to get it. Then I missed every single signal in the City of Buffalo.

Every single signal! That is a great phrase but it is hard to type.

When I finally got to work I ran into Margaret, my boss. Normally I am not the type to talk to bosses. I just am not. But this morning I was just in no hurry to buckle down, it was just the truth. So I trailed after Margaret, talking, as she made her way into the office. She went to make tea and I trailed after her there too.

Finally I get to my desk and the computer will not let me sign on. Tech services are not answering their phone so I end up getting Roger who is our resident computer expert. He is the Leonard Pennario of computers! But Roger was on the phone so I had to wait a while.

Then ... when he finally came over does not the darn computer start up all on its own. Son of a sea cook! It is as if it felt his presence. I felt like such an idiot.

Fast forward to Zumba class. I could not get the rhythm for love or money. After that I got caught in the rain. I had brought an umbrella but it broke embarrassingly so I left it in a garbage tote outside County Court. I ducked into the Ellicott Square Building to get out of the rain for a few minutes and that is when I ran into the woman who cuts my hair. She was getting coffee.

I wish I could put my salon person's name but she is Turkish or something and speaks no English. But we speak the international language of shopping!  And so I understood her to communicate to me that she had products marked way down. And I allowed her to lead me to the salon.

We start going through these lotions and perfumes and in a couple minutes I am loaded up with product I do not really need but what the heck, it is that kind of a day. Then this big tall blindingly handsome man walks in. He has this white hair and he sits down in the salon chair where I sit to get my hair cut. And we start joking around and then my hair cutter's husband introduces me and it is Congressman Jack Quinn.

And, I mean, I know who Congressman Quinn is but our paths do not cross and I do not watch much TV so I did not recognize him. Would you recognize Congressman Quinn if you bumped into him? That is something to ask yourself. Here is a picture of Congressman Jack Quinn so if you run across him you will know.

 I would pick this particular day to get introduced to a congressman. I mean, here I am in this long orange hippie dress and sandals and my hair is wet and I have not looked like this since my last Grateful Dead concert when I got caught in the rain at Rich Stadium and could not find my car.

I said something to Quinn trying to cover my embarrassment, something like, "Every time I walk in here I meet important people."

But inside I was thinking: "Can I go back to bed now?"

What a day!

Well, what do I expect for a Monday?