Forewarned

I’m not a person who has a lot of self-forgiveness for making silly mistakes. It’s why I can’t talk myself out of a ticket, if I get pulled over. I get so mad at myself for speeding that despite my being compliant and polite, it reads, to the officer, as crankiness at him (historically it has been a him), and I get the ticket every time.

This morning, I woke up to find the ice cream in the refrigerator. I’d gone down for a dish of ice cream late— something I never do, but I’d been thinking about it all evening, even though I was too full from dinner to want dessert.

I’d blame it on the late night storm that roused me for an hour in the middle of the night, except that it happened three hours before the storm. I guess I’m lucky I didn’t leave it on the counter.

I stopped at the grocery store on the way to work for some cherries. I breezed in and out, grabbed ’em and hit the self-checkout. First, I tried to pay. No, I mean, before I scanned my loyalty card or any items. Then, I scanned cherries and tried to bag them before I weighed them. For a four-item transaction, the poor clerk observing me felt like he needed to intervene about six times. And because I pride myself on self-sufficiency, I only let him help the sixth time.

It’s clear to me that my lack of sleep is impeding me more than I feel like it is. Where normally, that would frustrate me, today, I’m grateful to know it. I have a thing to do later in the day that I need to be sharp for. I’m glad to know, in advance, that I’m not at my best, so I don’t overplay my hand.

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