_{^{~Groovin' With Soccamom~}}

Although I've lived in this town for just over a year, I only know a handful of people and am friends with one, maybe two people. I'm not so outgoing, can be shy and not so sure of my conversational skills. Imagine my (pleased) surprise when the mother of one of Miss Boo's friends called last night to ask me a favor. Could her daughter walk home after volleyball practice with Miss Boo? She and her husband would be running late to pick up and that way N-friend wouldn't have to wait outside the school alone. Sure. No problem...glad to help.

Sooo, today. I took my usual walk at lunch today even though it was quite humid. I had sweat dripping from my neck and chest, but kept it off my silk sweater and skirt. (Thank the stars the Soft N Dry worked overtime.) I was feeling both miserable from the humidity but glad I'd stuck to my walking agenda. (See how I refrained from calling it a regime? That would make it a chore.

Fast forward to 4:55 pm. I should be leaving work in 5 minutes just when a lady walked in and needed an major adjustment. No, not her attitude, but her glasses. I started working with her when the phone rang. I had to handle it and Other Optician finished up with adjustment lady. Just as I was heading to the front desk to finish the call, Doctor wanted me to help fit the last patient of the day. "You know, Doctor, if you didn't spend so much time yakking you wouldn't get behind each and every day," I felt like saying. What I did say, however, is that I was on a call. After which I still had to help Last Patient. By the time I finished it was 5:20 and there would be no way to deliver N-friend to her parents by 5:30 as promised. As I rushed out the door I found that it was raining. "What next," I exclaimed to myself, exasperated. (Remember, silk sweater and skirt.)

I headed home and Miss Boo buzzed me on my cell. N-friend's sister picked her up and all was well, except that soccer practice which was supposed to be 5:30-6:30 was moved up to 5. Miss Boo had to haul it to make the last 20 minutes. As I headed back to my town I came upon a stretch of road that has 30 mph speed limit posted. Taking that as more of a suggestion, I usually go about 50 there. Tonight as I neared the pitiful request of a sign, a mantra started buzzing through my harried brain. It said, bad-day, bad-day, bad-day. I slowed to 30 and cruising up the block towards me was a police car.

I smiled as we passed.
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