Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Lookatmelookatme 2: The saga continues.

Once upon a time I was choring away at the costume warehouse, wrapping up a few things while waiting for my beloved friend Patti to arrive so we could run off to do some fun thing or other. I bent over to pick up a fallen costume and raised up into a waterfall fixture and clocked my forehead with some force. It hurt like the devil and there was a scrape with just a little blood. Not nearly enough to prompt the outpouring of sympathy I felt I deserved. So I sat on the floor a little longer than I needed to clear my head, hoping Patti would come in while I was sitting there and realize the extent of my suffering. Patti is a champion oh-you-poor-thinger and it is wonderful to get that blast of warm sympathy and then bravely say "Oh… it's nothing. What movie are we seeing?" She was late and I got bored and washed my forehead, but I told her when she arrived how I had posed for her on the floor and she missed it. Her laughter is as uplifting as her compassion. Good trade.

This is just a glimpse into the workings of my inner mind to suggest to you, dear readers, how much I have enjoyed the attention I have received since the robbery. I am functioning just fine, though I admit it is on my mind almost constantly. I expect my boss thought I had an unnatural fear of corporate visits when I jerked as he told us to expect "Rob". Several folks have suggested that I might fall apart later. So far I have chewed a hole in my lip during the night and burst out crying at Alberta's 6th grade picture even before I read the caption. But just look at how dear that picture is. I might have done that anyway. Further, I have been congratulated for and encouraged to keep writing about it, making me feel all brave and such for courageously revealing my trembling guts.

Truthiness? The second I saw the gun (and I now can remember it in his hand, but only when he is approaching the door) my inner wordsmith was whispering "oh… you can get some mileage out of this." and I was already composing before the police got there. The good parts of the saga are I didn't get hurt, it didn't last long, he didn't get much, he will get caught and I have a great story to tell. And I loooove having a story to tell. What's a little peace of mind compared to that? Good trade.

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