Wonder Boy had his last final this afternoon so I drove him in, dropped him off and ran errands today.
My current no car during the day for Lori routine is hard going. I've done it in the short term but never for this long. Man, I don't know how people do it, other than, like me, if you have no choice, you deal with it. But it is wearing on me... especially when family members ask if I have picked up (fill in the blank) and they know I couldn't have because I have no way to get it and in fact, it would be easier for them to stop and pick up (fill in the blank) because they were in town, in a CAR.
Whew! Glad I got that off my chest.
Anyway, I dropped Wonder Boy off and headed off to a grocery store. It all went well. The store was busy, but not crazy - until I was done and on my way out to the car. It was at that point I encountered the first angry old woman.
As I stepped out of the store and headed for my car I heard all this honking. Naturally, I looked. There was this old woman in a little compact car honking her horn, yelling, making all sorts of hand gestures and in general throwing what could be an actual conniption fit. The object of her ire was a car full of students driving the wrong way in the parking lot. The parking lot is directional, with arrows and diagonal parking so it's pretty clear which way you need to be going down each lane. I'm not sure it was worth that much yelling, honking and gesturing. The students actually had pulled over as far as they could and knew they were in the wrong. After that fit, a truck came down the same lane, and, yes, the wrong way and she started in again only this time the students in the truck were honking and gesturing back at her.
After almost a constant blare of honking since I first stepped out the door of the store, I was glad to have my cart unloaded and get into my car. The angry old woman parked next to me, and she was still yelling out loud, to herself, and gesturing wildly. I backed out as slowly and smoothly as possible and got the heck out of there. As I left, I looked back. The angry old woman was out of her car, muttering, and looking through the parking lot for the truck full of students.
This should have left me prepared for the rest of the day, a day full of angry old women. I'm thinking that there must be some kind of lesson in this, like: "Do not shop on the Friday of the weekend before Christmas. That's when the angry old women are out." If I hadn't been so happy and giddy to be out with the car during the day, I might have become an angry old woman myself by the end of the day.