Thursday, Cindy

Just now driving home from a trip to Southpoint mall I had one of those periods of all-encompassing warm feelings that can only occur when driving home after finding the perfect bridesmaid dress shoes with a good friend, running through the buckets of rain, from awning to awning getting soaked and finally arriving in the seat of a dry car. Even if that car is a Chevy Cavalier you rented that morning after being in an accident the day before. The accident, although it will require my car being at the shop for a couple days hence the ultra-sexy black Cavalier, was minor and, despite the fact that everyone keeps asking if I'm ok, an incident that made me feel lucky it wasn't worse instead of unlucky that it happened at all.

It's like the stomach pain I survived after having a caramel Frappaccino from Starbucks today - bad, but more funny than bad. This has always been a problem for me. In college I used to order a coffee drink from my favorite haunt for "studying" but really watching people, Espresso Royale. It had both mocha and rasperry flavors and after drinking it down in a haze of greedy bliss I'd suffer God awful stomach pains that I knew I shouldn't complain about considering I'd bring them upon myself time and again. I'd wait just long enough to forget the fact that coffee drinks with more than one flavor, the syrup and milk and industrial-strength espresso mixing together to form a substance (each body has such a mortal enemy - my friend told me just last night that he's never been able to eat sherbert) I simply can't handle. But one forgets. So I drank the lethal mixture of substances this afternoon and have been suffering since, reminding myself "never again" with each lower stomach cramp.

Going out to get the shoes helped me to forget about it, because, like the accident the torrential rain that has been falling all night due to tropical storm Cindy, the stomach pain incurred after indulging in something I knew I shouldn't indulge in is fleeting. So as I drove home in the dry Cavalier listening to soft rock I felt happy and safe and started looking forward to this weekend we will spend in Connecticut for my Aunt Betsey's wedding. I drove home and got into the most comfortable pajamas. Cecilia whined and placed a heavy paw in my lap over and over and we all, the dogs and me, got on the couch, turned on "The Office" for about the hundreth time and listened to the storm.