Oh, the foreshaddowing.
On Wednesday morning I was enjoying a bagel as I read the newspaper. I was just into the front section. I always leave my favorite sections for last. I enjoy the paper much more if I end with Baby Blues, Mallard Fillmore, and oh goodness...the strip with Jeremy and his parents. The name escapes me. At any rate, I was enjoying the paper and really enjoying my bagel. I was thinking about how nice it is to have homemade jam. It was toasted perfectly. Chris and the kids were all omletted and pop-tarted up in the other room. It was quiet. I had coffee. It was still hot.
And the phone rang.
My fellow nursing student is on the other end of the line. "What are you doing?" she whispers. I reply with a chipper voice, "reading the paper and eating a bagel. What are you do--" Oh dear. I realize before my sentence is finished that perhaps if she really wanted to know about my breakfast she would have asked in a different tone. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I was not where I was supposed to be.
I was, at that moment, creating a first-impression with my clinical instructor. My clinical instructor who was sitting at the Marion County Health Department with 9 other students. I was already 45 minutes late. Not showered. Teeth not brushed. (Because of course, I had to finish my breakfast before I headed out to the dental appointment that I had scheduled for later in the morning.)
Nice. I really did miss knowing when the first day of class was.
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Also, I had a tough conversation with Sam this week. He was BEGGING me to go over to his friend Master's house. Master is is newest imaginary friend. Newest being third in line after Jonathan and Jennifer. But they're not gone yet. Master is also Jonathan's friend. You might remember that they live in South Harbor.
Anyway, I play along and tell him that I haven't talked to Master's mother and that he won't be able to have a play date tonight.
We go inside a few minutes later and Samuel immediately goes to the toy telephone in the dining room. He punches a few numbers and begins a one-sided conversation. He covers the phone to tell me that he's talking to Master's mom. Apparently, she says it's OK for him to come over.
The poor boy was heartbroken that I still wouldn't let him go. Real tears for an imaginary friend.
