Okay, so today was a little rough. I’ve recently been laid off from my job. Not to make this my diary or anything, but I’ve been feeling oddly conflicted since it happened yesterday. At first I felt terrified — my mind instantly conjured up images of long lines at a local temp. office. I saw 1920’s fashion, men in caps, the images themselves in black and white — or was it sepia? The point is, I was horrified. At 26, I had lost the game too soon.
Then it hit me — I was free. I didn’t need to wait until my lunch hour to fantasize about the rest of my life. I could spend as much time as I needed — wait, no, I could spend.. well, based on my current modest savings… okay, that’s a few months. I could spend a few months figuring out what I really wanted to do next. That’s why I’m here, again. Because sharing recipes and sustainability stories with you is what I love. So, I may as well spend my free time doing just that.
Alright, enough of the sappy stuff. Let’s get onto the hilarity.
So, today The Man had to work late. Tonight — Halloween. Seriously depressing. Don’t worry, I was sufficiently sassy about it. I decided I would just go it alone. Go what alone? My first at-home-handing-out-candy situation. I’m just now growing out of the going out and getting plastered stage of Halloween amusement, and this year I decided to stay at home with a G-rated costume (I was a mouse) and hand out candy to adorable children. I imagined myself saying sweet, tactful things, like, “Happy Halloween. And what are you, young man/woman?” I asked The Man to pick up some good candy in the city before coming home (the real junky stuff, like Snickers and Red Vines).
He didn’t respond. I waited a bit, and then it hit me. The Children are coming, and I have no candy.
Why wasn’t The Man responding?! What was I going to do? Turn off the porch light and hide from the adorable Iron Maidens and Vampires? I needed The Man to pick up candy because the closest store to me is an organic, high priced grocery chain that I will not name for legal reasons which I KNEW had horrible candy, like knock off fruit roll ups and brown rice krispy treats. Don’t get me wrong — I love these things, myself. I think they’re delicious. But, I was also once a child. These are not child-friendly delicious. And certainly NOT on Halloween. So, in a panic, I ran out to the grocery store, freaking out that The Man wasn’t responding and The Children were on their way and asked an employee where the Halloween candy could be found. His exact response, “Uh, as far as candy specially packaged for Halloween, I’m not sure if we have that here. It could be by the registers, maybe.” I stared at him, suppressing my rage. As I mentioned, I live freakishly close to this mega chain hippy dippy store. I spend an embarrassing portion of my salary on their food because of convenience. I had been subjected to giant displays of Halloween themed candy for weeks, now, and this guy was making it sound like I was asking about something he was completely unaware of. On Halloween, no less. Did I find a Halloween display? Yes. Was it so close to him I felt compelled to tell him and he could hear me? Yes. Whatever. Flash forward to me sitting here typing. I am pretzel lady.
That’s right, there was no candy left — just pretzels. I supplemented them with Sesame Street juice boxes. I am so sorry children, but I figured you’d rather pretzels than nothing. (I know it’s not true). So after beating myself up for a few hours over my poor selection of treats, not a single child has knocked at my door. That’s right, I forgot I wasn’t in my hometown in North Carolina. I’m in Oakland, California. Children don’t just go knocking on their neighbors doors, here. They commute to Berkeley, Alameda, Marin County, for goodness sake. So here I am, with a bowl full of pre-packaged pretzels and juice boxes. Did I mention I’m recently unemployed? Oy vey.
On to the next chapter, ya’ll!