Earlier this morning, I almost became the new owner of a local Safeway store. As I headed toward the store to purchase breakfast, with a jaunt in my step, happy to be wearing awesome boots and happy to be making good time before the start of work, I nearly fell to my demise on a sheet of invisible, black ice. I mean, the way I slipped and nearly crashed to the ground–it was unbelievable. Somehow, inexplicably, one foot saved the other and kept me from actually hitting the ground. I was shaken and stirred, dazed and confused, completely out of sorts. (Not too out of sorts, however, to quickly double-check if any eyes had witnessed my apparent audition for the Olympic gymnastic team). Inside the store, I must been a sight: stunned and open-mouthed while I stood in front of a row of bagels.
The moral of this story? Sidewalks, crosswalks, paths in front of stores need to be SALTED. Granted, I should have been far more aware of where I was going and far less transfixed by the clicking of my awesome boots, but, all the same, salting the area would be nice and safe. Had I fallen to the ground? I would have stayed right there on the ground, patiently waiting until the manager of that particular store came to me. Upon his arrival, with stars in my eyes, I would have whispered my ideas for changing the store’s format following my new appointment as the owner and General Manager. Nevertheless, I’m thrilled that I didn’t crash to the ground, and I’m thrilled that my idea of having driveable grocery carts will never see the light of day. As usual, since these life events require a scapegoat, I blame the awesome boots.
Regarding yesterday’s post, the story will be written! I will do my very best. I may even debut it on this JournaBlog. More to come…
In Frederick Von Plant news, he’s still mostly vibrant. However, a few leaves are turning brown; one poor leaf has sadly gone the way of the dinosaur. All those things considered, I refuse to let him die. I refuse!