A Morning of Minor Inconveniences

Life can roll along for a while. No real bumps in the road--or even the tiniest of pebbles. Sometimes, of course, vast, yawning pits appear right in front of you, and you hope you can brake in time. Illness, deaths, horrors of every cast.

And other times ... some minor roadwork causes you to slow--maybe even to head off on a detour for a while. Or endure a bump.

Such was the case today.

As many of you know, I am nothing if not a Creature of Routine. Same things, same places, every day.

Today--some alterations. I knew, for example, that I was going to have to head over to Eddy's Cycle Shop in Stow later this morning to pick up my bike, where I'd had a new seat ("saddle," they called it!) installed. My old one--the one that came with my old Schwinn (which I bought in 1995)--had finally succumbed to my bum's abuse and split right down the middle. (It looking something like a crazy smile--the kind of thing The Joker could produce routinely.)

And my 1995 grips had likewise decided Enough Was Enough, and had begun to get sticky in warm weather, to shred easily. After a ride, my hands sometimes looked as if I'd been playing with hot tar.

I thought I could do these installations myself (when a kid, I used to take my bike apart in the back yard), but I couldn't. Rust and ignorance and impatience combined to thwart me. So I hauled the bike off to Eddy's yesterday evening and today paid them $16.

Then another surprise. When I got back from the coffee shop this morning, I saw that the folks we use for housecleaning services (bi-weekly) had not been here. Hmmmmm. A later phone call confirmed it: The business was out of business--and I'd already sent the check for today's service.

So ... I got on the phone with my bank, was on hold for about ten minutes, got cut off, re-did all the menus (uttering grievous execrations the while), waited for another ten minutes, and after some confusion on the other end of the line, got the check stopped. Whew.

And then we had some handymen over today to stain our wraparound porch. Can't walk on it all day, have to enter the house from deep in the back yard (where our screened porch stands ineffectual guard). A pain, walking clear around the house to get inside.

As I said, these issues don't ever rise to the level of a Big Deal. Just the surprises and annoyances of living--surprises and annoyances that remain minor (maybe even ridiculous), but they still managed to elevate my blood pressure, to invite Anger over for brunch, and, generally, to confirm once again what I've long known--that I'm an Old Fool.