Just Another Number

I’m exhausted right now, and I’ve only been awake for 4 hours. The problem is the 2 hours I stood inside the Social Security Administration building (and I mean stood) felt like an entire day inside a middle school classroom. For one thing, every time an employee called for a number, you would hear a beep followed by the number. Considering the amount of time we were all spending there, you would think people would listen intently in the hope their number would be next. Instead, the conversations grew louder so they could be heard over the interrupting employee. This is not unlike students at the end of the day who miss out on their bus change because they were too busy talking over the announcement.

Another favorite moment today was when the security guard announced that anyone parked behind the building without a permit would be towed. People started throwing questions and complaints at him. “But I parked on the side of the building!” “Is it okay if I parked out front?” I had flashbacks of assigning homework. “Complete questions 1, 3, 4, and 5 for homework.” “What about 2? Do we need to do 2?” Don’t get me started on the number of minutes we all lost to people who didn’t use their wait time wisely enough to complete the paperwork before they reached the counter. (Can anyone say, write your name on your paper as soon as you start the assignment!)

So in the end, I did something really mean today. One guy, dressed in his work attire of button-down cotton shirt and black trousers kept complaining about how he didn’t have time to sit there and wait. I don’t know how many times the security guard reminded him that he had to wait his turn just like everyone else (including the people who lined up at the door at 6 a.m.). He was really antsy as we finally neared my number, and he canvassed the room to find out how many people with a number before his were actually there. I happened to have 2 tickets, 2 numbers apart. I gave the second one away from someone who I knew was before him.

And it felt good.

In the end, I will say that I do not begrudge the federal employees when they take their union mandated twenty minute break even when there’s a line out front that makes the fire inspector chew his nails. After all, they spend all day dealing with people like me who are irresponsible enough to lose their social security card and then complain about the wait to get a free replacement.

On The 417

Today we had one of those glorious Florida summer afternoons filled with lots of booming thunder and rain that forms sheets so thick you can’t see through them. I drove in it on my way to a movie theater. Learning to drive in this kind of weather made driving in ice and snow a piece of cake. The movie was a blast and my friend was the perfect companion for this girls night out.

On the way back my husband and I were talking on the phone about the upcoming move. He’s feeling apprehensive about our growing to-do list. We’ve divided up our worrying responsibilities well–I take care of fretting that our coughs might be signs of tuberculosis and he takes over for me about how we’re going to get “it” all done. My well-rehearsed response is, “We just have to take it one piece at a time.” And for the record, I really do believe that line. I wish he would, too.

We hung up with mounting tension, and I reached to take sip of my chai tea. At that moment, the lid came off, sending a waterfall of chai tea right into the side of my center console. My lips spread into a straight line. There was no reason to stop because the side of a Florida highway during rain is more dangerous than walking the streets in Tijuana. I kept driving and thought, “You know, life really is all about the choices we have in front of us in that moment.”

My choice in that moment was to curse the tea and the guy behind the counter at Barnie’s or just deal with it. There was nothing I could do to change the fact that my car is now chai tea scented or that I will be spending some time in the morning scraping away the stickiness. It’s a done deal. The same can be said for our move–the wheels are in motion. That’s life. We choose. We accept. We do the best we can with the cards dealt to us.

Right now, nothing…nothing in this world compares with the peace I feel right now in my soul because I looked at the options in front of me and picked the best path I could see. Things will change because they always change, and when they do, I’ll adjust my scope. For now, I have some chai tea to mop up.