Friday, Ugh.


the wheelbarrow keeps going downhill, one day after the next. with a scratch, and a bump. a bruise here or there from the wear. Friday comes and Saturday goes. Sunday separates the weeks before they get out of order. but it is still too quick for my taste.

I had lunch for 30 minutes. then left quickly. it almost always feels like I should be going. I have to get back to work, I tell them. I am over 50 and the time for wasting another day is over. you cannot tell them that. they would not understand anyway. 

I ordered Bratwurst. when it came, it was knockwurst. one an award-winner, the other a glorified hot dog. at this restaurant at least. how can that happen when you have the county’s best chef?

in the old days I would have said something. now I shut my mouth and ate it, thankful for something more glamorous than the ubiquitous Taco Bell (which has become as exciting as discovering yet another Dollar General). in another reality, I would simply fly home and fix Lamb Curry with lemon rice, accompanied by a plate of hot butter-dripping naan.  

at my age I cannot afford to be caught in a simulated reality. especially when you find  yourself on the kind of road I found myself on later this afternoon. not a good time to daydream about anything. especially when the guardrail disappears, and half the road with it.

excuse me, but can we have a bit of fantasy with our cliffside road, please?

turning around on a steep grade takes some skill, but it is best when not accompanied by a ringing cell phone, a fallen limb in the road, or a crazy guy on a tractor trying to mow the side of a ditch along a one-lane road.

I know God does not create stupid, but that tractor operator obviously graduated with a degree in it.

suffice to say, when I failed to soil myself, trying to steer the vehicle back onto a semblance of a roadway south, I decided to celebrate the rest of the workday by ignoring the rest of my schedule, driving into Amish Country, and playing tourist.

because sometimes you just have to step back and realize that although work pays the bills, interacting with people should certainly be more eternally rewarding in the long run.

 

 

About thelostkerryman

Thelostkerryman is an author, and entrepreneur, living in the forests of a consistently confused country. Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley; store-made soda bread has the consistency of a sea sponge; and Kerrygold butter has finally found a permanent place on the grocery shelves everywhere. His blogs are an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above. All of his posts from thelostkerryman.wordpress.com, talesinastrangerstrangerland@wordpress.com, everydayasadisciple@wordpress.com, and mrandmrsboring.wordpress.com are copywrited according to international copywrite law.
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