Today, I got stuck writing. Often, when frustration hits, I decide to take a walk. Since it was close to lunch time, I decided to make the mile hike down Main St. to a local diner. My New Year resolutions include being more productive and procrastinating less. In an effort to stay on task, I grabbed my voice recorder and headed out the door.
About half way to the diner, I was deep into fixing my problem. Talking out a particularly daunting (for me) piece of dialog, my hands were waving wilding. I looked up and saw a nicely dressed mother approaching with her two young children. Her son, about 3, was pointing at me.
In a flash, the mother grabbed the kids' hands and crossed the street. Now, my town has a really nice Main Street. It is divided with a beautifully landscaped grassy mall down the middle. This mall is wide enough to sport memorials to various war vets and a winding walk way. Anyway, this young woman crossed not to the winding path down the mall, but rather she crossed to the far side of the road. Then she proceeded to walk to the end of the block, well past me, before returning back to my side of the street. I only noticed this because I stopped to talk to a local police officer signed up for next week's CPR class.
As we talked I pointed out the lady's actions. The officer smiled as he shook his head. Suddenly, I stopped to think about how I must have looked...mumbling to myself, carrying on a conversation with invisible people, and talking with my hands. Yep, crazy women. Yikes, all of sudden I could not remember if I had combed my hair before I left the house. My final shock was when I realized in my haste to dash out the door, I had put on one hot pink Converse hightop and one orange one.
I think it is official...I am the new town crazy.
No comments:
Post a Comment