We parted just before nine, each of us turning at the road closest to where we parked. I walked on Butler Street, toward Court Street and my car—cocking my head. It wasn’t there. And I nearly had a heart attack thinking it had been stolen when I realized I was on the wrong street.
Earlier in the evening, I felt the stirring of a migraine and popped an Aleve hoping it would alleviate and diffuse the pain. It never fails really, the one time I think I've made it through a good season, I fail to take my pills with me. And in a moment of misjudgment and pause over one of the locally sourced beverages at 61 Local--an Allagash White, my mind took a turn onto the dark side. Of course it didn't help that I stopped for groceries on the way home, for staples like paper towels and turkey for Tigger.
On the highway I drove the speed limit, and nearby cars opted to go around me, changing lanes. It seemed odd but nothing out of sorts. I drove over a metal plate and the crunch of the tire on steel startled me. I made it home at 9.38 – it felt as if the clock was moving backwards. And as I pulled into the driveway, without the reflection of my headlights on the garage I realized I had never turned them on! I locked the car, gathered the groceries and started for the house, when something made me look at the car. The front passenger windows were rolled open. After all that I'd say Mom was an angel in wait tonight.
I made it inside, feeding the cat, stowing my purchases, glancing through my DVR’d season finale of fairly legal and the beginnings of season 1 of downton abbey streamed from Netflix to the Apple TV (still trying to adopt to this newfangled technology and the erratic behavior of my Wifi). The exhaustion is creeping, the ache of the migraine behind my right eye, the uncomfortable acid in my stomach, the sleepy quality of a Zen masterpiece. Tigger spoons to my right, and the REM beckons from the bedroom…