Today was certainly…brisk.

I walked into work this morning, fully expecting to sink into the warmth of my cozy little office, but instead I could nearly see my breath, and at the same time my nose almost fell off. Luckily the landlord always answers his phone and has handymen on retainer, and they could get out there today. While I waited for it to get to be time for them (does that make sense?) I took myself to the hardware and purchased a heater. Then I took myself to the Cracker Barrel and made a complete hog out of myself on the “Grandma’s Sampler”. Grandma’s Gluttony, more like. And to think, I was disappointed there weren’t biscuits 🙄

Anyway, it’s so comforting to simply sit and sip coffee in a Cracker Barrel and watch people. There will be your retired senior citizens, traveling in pairs, as couples. There will be groups of ladies catching up. There are families, and young moms with babies, meeting their own mother for a few minutes of peace and being waited on instead of catering to another’s needs. There are road-weary travelers, and people on business, some still caught reading a newspaper at their table. And then there’s me: displaced from a frigid downtown office. Alone but content. Smiling at the life bustling around her.

My waitress’ name was Jamie. She had a big lipsticked smile and four stars on her apron. I checked. I always check. She kept my coffee topped off and brought me one to go, while cautioning me about the lid. I wanted to be friends with her. She seemed like a responsible sort, the type you could depend on to water your plants and feed your cat if you had to stay in the hospital. I don’t always get that with Cracker Barrel waitresses, but I feel like that should be part of the gold star standard.

Back at work, I plugged my heater in, donned my crochet fingerless gloves, and wadded up under my ultra soft crocheted blankie my friend Susan made me a couple of years ago. All was as well as it could be.

So the heating unit got a bandaid, I didn’t catch pneumonia that I know of, and it’s supposed to rain like the devil dickens in the morning. And the wind will be a-whippin’. So I’m glad I’m not a pioneer woman having to worry about keeping the fire going and water boiling and all that business. I would have never made it. Besides, my hair would have never gotten along with a bonnet. And if wasn’t the cold, it woulda been the heat. I tell ya, I’m a creature of comforts. I need central heat and air and Hobby Lobby and Texas Roadhouse. Today taught me something else as well: always look your best. My grandmother had tried to instill that in me, but obviously it didn’t take because Lord, my hair. But today I was presentable, and oh so thankful, as I was out traipsing about town. Plus, handymen.

I can see that I’m going to have to set aside a time every day for this, and put my phone on silent for a block. I end up putting off writing till the end of the day, mainly so I’ll have something to write about, but it never fails when I sit down to write I’m tired and instantly frustrated with every text and phone call. It’s not fair. I love that people have things to share with me. I love that my friends want to talk to me. Maybe I should write in the morning, fresh from dreams, with a hope that the day will bring only good things.

You know, my delusional state before I contend with school traffic and the general idiots who travel Chapman Highway.

But I have enough to do in the mornings, which is work my Wordle and drink coffee. Oh, and rub Chester’s velvety ears. Very important.

I sure wish I had some exotic tropical vacation to take right now. I know that would kickstart my creative gene. And give y’all something way more interesting to read than what you’ve been having to slog through. Maybe I just need a new activity. I am NOT taking back up spin class, though, I’ll tell you that right now.

I’m a bit tired of being on the hamster wheel, of always being available and dependable and good ol’ Amy. I’m glad to be that, most all the time, but I definitely need a break. I sometimes wonder who would show up at my house if I let all calls slide to voicemail and all texts go unanswered for 24 hours. ….and in all honesty, I’d really prefer to let them go a week. I just feel that I’m carrying a lot and 95% is not even mine to carry. And the ones that ask me to carry the most…well, sometimes they don’t realize I could use some help carrying my own. But grace. Grace. That’s what friends do. We’re all tired, no one always remembers to check on one another like we should. And this time of year is especially hard. All the twinkles and glitter and cheer is packed away for another year and we’re all regretting spending so much, eating so much, drinking so much. It’s the excess that wears us down.

It’s going on ten and I just want to wash my face and crawl in bed. I was up till midnight last night, and back up at six. I’m too old for that crap. And it wasn’t even for anything good. (Don’t ask me to define good, it’ll make your ears turn red). Anyway, goodnight and best of luck with the weather tomorrow. It’s gonna be yucky. I gotta dig out my thick socks.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy