Journal of a Sabbatical

August 31, 1998

64, no, never, Yankees in 7
and your predictions?

Copyright © 1998, Janet I. Egan

Me at Starbucks
Photo by Sue O'Neill

I woke up with a headache this morning. I couldn't shake it by the time I left the house so I was feeling pretty lousy sitting at the counter in Starbucks with my head buried in Spartina by John Casey. Ned walks in.

Ned: "I need to make a bet with you."
Janet:"Hunh?"
Ned: "Got a piece of paper?"
Rick the Starbucks manager: "Here."
Ned: "McGwire, how many?"
Janet: "64"
Ned writes 64 in the column labeled Janet and 65 in the column labeled Ned.
Ned: "Bubba, in or out?"
Janet: "In - he's staying."
Ned: "He's going to resign, it's just a matter of time. I was going to ask you when"
Ned writes No in the Janet column and Yes in the Ned column, then Never in the Janet column and May/June 1999 in the Ned column.
Janet:"OK, are you going to ask who's going to win the World Series now? I say Yankees in 7."
Ned: "You really think it'll go 7 games?"
Rick the Starbucks manager:"The Red Sox could beat them in the playoffs."

I stopped off at Tom & Julie's on the way home to drop off a picture I took of Tom at Starbucks (from the same roll as the portrait of me, above). Julie was crossing the driveway wearing oven mitts and carrying something wrapped in brown paper.

Janet: "Hi."
Julie: "Blueberry muffins. Fresh from the oven. We're late. We were supposed to be in New Hampshire at 2:00."
Tom arrives.
Julie: "We're late, was he with you?"
Janet: "No, I was with Ned".
Janet hands Tom the picture and high tails it out of the driveway.

Just about my whole day went like this, bizarre conversations and bad moods.

I pruned more vines and swept up more cigarette butts. The cigarette butts are so embedded in the grass I need a metal rake. A neighbor I've never seen before congratulated me as I was sweeping. I couldn't stop myself from telling her in an abnormally loud voice that I don't smoke and the cigarette butts are not mine.

I'm really tempted to buy one of those big pedestal ashtrays with the sand in them and install it on the Beans of Egypt Maine's porch. I feel resentment as I try to clean up after them, especially since it's interfering with my own cleaning up the overgrown vines. It's not bad enough I have my own yard mess to be ashamed of, but I have to experience the second hand shame of neighbors who throw cigarette butts in my yard, on my walk, all over the parking lot mostly in my parking space?!?