Friday, January 06, 2023

No, We're All Like That Now

      I'm home today, having done something wretched to my back, either by spending an hour at floor level going after trimmings from copper-pipe deburring that were at risk of being sucked into the air intakes of one of my big electrical machines at work or by a week of looking after the (scoopable) litter for my neighbor's (five) cats, which involves a lot of bending over and lifting (her usual cat-helper took a week off).  Or possibly both.  Whatever, I presently have two speeds, Molasses Slow and Full Stop, both of which involve more groaning than is seemly.

      I had groaned my way to the kitchen for a lunch-like snack (gherkins and buttered saltines) when I heard a delivery truck pull up and idle.  I eased my way to the front window and peeked out through the gap between the curtains from several steps back: one of the big-name package haulers, with a box two feet on a side waiting up front, the driver nowhere to be seen and a series of it's-around-where-somewhere noises from the cargo section.

      Pretty soon the driver appeared and carried the big box towards our porch, out of my line of site.  Setting-down noises followed and after a short pause he said, "No, I'm an idiot."

      Driver and box reappeared and went back into the back of the truck.  Then he showed up with a much smaller box and dashed up our sidewalk again.  I went to the door and took it, thanking him.

      It's not just you, delivery-truck driver.  We're all trying to keep up and dropping the occasional stitch.  You're not an idiot, only human.

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