I recently met someone who is the personification of a smiley-face emoji. Every time my phone buzzes, I hope that it is a message from him with three simple letters: h, e, y. Usually it’s just an email about clothing or makeup trends, which I delete. But those few times it actually is a message from him with those three letters, a smile involuntarily comes to the corners of my mouth. We usually talk about nothing and sometimes talk about when we can hang out, but we can’t ever hang out because I’m at work every time he’s free and vice versa.
On Wednesday this last week I messaged him out of complete boredom but after talking about hygiene, there was nothing left to be said. He messaged me over the weekend out of complete boredom, but after learning that my evening was taken up with a dinner party, there was nothing left to be said. Yesterday afternoon I casually suggested that I stop by his work place and buy food when he suggested that I come by around 7:00 so that we could eat together. The stars had finally aligned.
The stars never align so I was nervous. I’m always fastidious about hygiene, but I had just had a cup of coffee and hadn’t brushed my teeth! I had spent the afternoon with a friend and hadn’t thought to bring my toothbrush. I begged her to come with me as a buffer because all the unfulfilled anticipations were crashing in on me, and I just couldn’t carry that burden on my shoulders while driving to Woodruff.
We pulled into the parking lot (it took me three tries to park and I really should’ve taken four) when my mother called me. Family emergency: my sister is going to the emergency room, and I need to babysit my brothers. We jump back into the car, I drop my friend off at her house, and I drive to my parents’ place where my brothers have selflessly prepared pizza for me.
Yet again, the stars had not really aligned. It was inevitable.
My sister did not get home until 2:00 in the morning, and I did not get any sleep until she came home. When she got home she was in no condition to sleep so we had a powwow in the kitchen. She and I are both deathly afraid of needles. (When I go get my cavity filled tomorrow morning, my first!, I might faint.) The nurses had hooked her up to a heart monitor and stuck an IV in her arm. When they began to poke her, her blood pressure accelerated and the machine began beeping. A nurse ran into the room, thinking that my sister was dying. She was not dying. She’s just afraid of needles.
Oh the burden of anticipation.