It didn’t start off as anything spectacular. Most of those larger than life days are ones you’ve been planning- you know, your wedding, your baptism, your birthday. Today was just another day, technically.

It started with this gigantic crow. I was driving to work this morning, noting the shape and texture of the mountains, and reflecting on why everyone loves this area. I mean, think about it. We get hordes of tourists that eventually retire here, artists who just want to paint the scene in all weather and seasons, and then the local people who can’t fathom moving away.

So there was this crow. I noticed him because he was swooping and looked like a vulture for a fleeting second. Then I noticed he was being chased by a mockingbird. An extremely irate mockingbird.

If you’re not familiar with our state bird, allow me to introduce you. They are roughly the size of a blue jay and not nearly as vibrant but every bit as loud. They were made famous by Harper Lee’s novel, To Kill A Mockingbird. “Mockingbirds don’t do one thing except make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corn cribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.” And that’s true. Have you ever heard one? They’re clear and it seems like they don’t take a breath. They switch it up from song to song and are expert mimickers. So I feel that this crow had probably intruded on the poor singer’s nest. And was paying a dear price, from what I observed. That crow had picked the wrong songbird. Bluebirds are pretty wicked, too.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Or as uneventful as mornings at the fencing outfit ever are. I decided on Burger King for lunch, and when I rolled up at the drive-thru, I was positively bowled OVER by the beauty and abundance of their rosebushes. I don’t even like rosebushes! I like hothouse roses in a vase. The bushes have aphids, and scrawny petals, and straggly leaves. They’re pretty when they’re growing at a distance, like up a castle wall in Ireland. So I’m all mesmerized by the beauty of their roses, and tried to tell the visor-wearing employee as she handed over my char-grilled perfection, but she was busy and I don’t think she took notice. So then I’m questioning my existence, and wondering if the rest of the world goes around noticing these types of things, and then I begin to wonder if my ticket is about to be punched. Am I about to die and God is trying to help me see the beauty of the earth before I make my departure??? I mean, I’m cool with it, but there are still plenty of things I’d like to do. And I worry about Shug. Who’s going to cook for him?

I made it back to work without incident, and ate my Whopper without choking, then promptly forgot about my impending death. Even as this random lady walked in and we got right down to talking about Arabian horses and the afterlife (horse people know those two go hand in hand). I changed into a dress for my board meeting (I was wearing non-matching Lularoe, even for the most adventurous mix-and-matchers) and skeddadled off to the library.

My dress is of the wrap variety, which most people agree are flattering on my full figured frame, and the wind was blowing…you get the picture. It is a deep v-cut in the front, so I was having a bit of trouble keeping everything covered and tucked. Sometimes I feel like it’s so hard to be a woman. I strode towards the library doors, trying to appear confident and look like I’m in control, but straightening my dress and praying another big gust of wind doesn’t blow my hair in my face which would cause me to let go of my dress to push the hair out of my face so I don’t trip on the curb, effectively losing my grip on my pocketbook and I would be tail over teakettle.

There was a teenage boy who let the door slam behind him without even making eye contact or offer to hold the door a tenth of a second so it wouldn’t hit my boo–arm. Who raises these ungrateful snots? I passed through the lobby over to Circ to get the public comments in the lock box.

Empty. Sweet.

I head to the elevator and there’s the director, chatting with the branch manager like she hadn’t a care in the world.

Ok, I’ve explained how I’m always late, sliding in by the skin of my teeth, dead last? Rhonda is never late. Never ever. “Are you comin’?” I asked, sliding around her.

She gives me a bewildered look.

“Where we goin’?”

Now, Rhonda’s not one to play cute, and that’s when I begin to think that something has went terribly wrong. I flipped my mental calendar. Yessss….it’s the first Tuesday of the month. I’m not crazy. But I AM worried for Rhonda. She is never unprepared.

“The board meeting???” I say, with a small side of “duhhh” implied.

“No, Caroline’s spring concert is tonight and I couldn’t miss it. We moved it to next week.”

I blink and look around slowly. “How did I not know this?” I survey the lobby. “Am I the only one who showed up?” (Let the record show that I am one of the youngest members of the board. This is not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.)

She giggles inadvertently. “So far.”

Shit.

“I sent an email,” Rhonda states her case.

Of course she did. I don’t read emails. I used to have a sales rep who would call me, or stop by with doughnuts, when he’d sent a pertinent one and needed an order. He knew how I operated. Honestly, unless it’s titled “AMY READ THIS” in bright red letters, I’m probably not going to read it. I figure 90% don’t pertain to me, and of the 10% that do, I’ll be reminded in a future meeting. And it’s always best for the sender to follow up with a text. Because, lets face it, I make a really irresponsible adult when I’m not at work.

So here I’d got all dressed up in this uncomfortable attire, done my makeup, shaved my legs, and showed up, all for nil. I’ll be dogged. This is exactly the second time in my whole life something like this has happened. Another time was church a few years ago. It had snowed on like, Friday, but my road was clear by Saturday evening, so I got up and dressed up, and headed to my normal Sunday Service.

And the parking lot was empty.

Had I checked my emails, I would have known.

I was attending the same church as my boss at Co-op at that time, and he said he never would have dreamed I would attempt to navigate the icy roads or he would have texted me. Seeeee???? He knew me.

But this is in no way Rhonda’s fault. After conferring with a co-board member, my friend Tracy–excuse me, the lovely Tracy, she said she edited her calendar when it was announced last month at the meeting.

What? Last month??? I was there! I remember nothing.

So, once again, I’m struck by the thought that maybe this is my Last Day again, and I was being detained to be at my certain place at my certain time. At least my dress was pretty, even if it was a pain. I thought back to sitting in traffic at the high school and watching Lifestar lift off from the airport. So if something happens to me, they probably wouldn’t be available. Should I hang out at the library? Nah…that would be expected.

I forced myself back out into the sunshine and put myself behind the wheel again. I heaved a big sigh. I called Shug and tried to ignore the lump in my throat that this could be our last conversation. At least he answered.

I ignored my texts all the way home. Why push my luck?

My last meal? A zalad from Zaxby’s because advertising works. And I’m sitting in their drive-thru admiring how glossy their shrubs were. What is with all the plant life today? Is it the perfect combination of sun and rain? Are landscapers becoming better at their jobs? Or am I really fixing to die???

I get home and barely got my purse sat down before I violently sneezed. Five. Times. In. A. Row. 

So I don’t know if this is it. If this is my last blog post, I’m sorry it wasn’t more enlightening. But I’m fixing to head to the shower, and I plan to be really careful.

If I don’t see ya till the other side, it’s been a heckuva ride. And I guess I’ll have to depend on y’all to get me published. I’ll die obscure, like Emily Dickenson. 🙂 There are worse fates. Remember to notice the little things. Because it’s really gorgeous out there.

And please forgive any grammatical errors. I have not proofread. I ain’t got time for that tonight!