I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room. Not much sleep last night and then I got here at 6 AM to meet with my mom’s docs. She’s been in here a week after open heart surgery. She’s getting a pacemaker today and hopefully should be able to go home tomorrow.
I’m having bad thoughts today. Not about my mom’s health, because she seems to be doing well. Rather, I’m having bad thoughts about the people who are sharing this waiting room with me. Actually not all the people, just one lady. Actually not the whole lady, just her face. Actually not her whole face, just her mouth, which has not stopped f*cking moving since I came in.
That is, until now. Now that I’ve finally given up on trying to nap, and I’ve popped open the laptop and started to type, she is quiet. Now she’s reading the paper. It’s like all of a sudden, she doesn’t want to talk about her stuffed peppers anymore. Why the big change all of a sudden? Does she think I’ll steal her pepper recipe? MAYBE I WILL.
While I was trying to nap, I put my earbuds in and tried to listen to a hypnosis audio on resolving procrastination. I tried to grab onto the words. I pictured my procrastination as a shape. I picturing putting it in a box and then taking that box deep into the middle of the desert. I pictured digging the deepest hole the earth has ever seen and then throwing that lady into the bottom of it. Then I pictured throwing shovel after shovel full of sand down onto her yapping head.
Gah! I had a box somewhere around here. Where did it go?
Oh. She’s sitting on it. I couldn’t see it under her flapping gums. GET OFF MY BOX, LADY.
Sand. Sand covering the box. Only the box. Not the lady. How horrible of me to think about shoveling sand onto her face. I’m a horrible person. What if my hypnosis manipulated something in the energetic universe and this lady ended up having respiratory issues today? It would certainly be my fault. It looks like she’s already on oxygen. What kind of monster thinks thoughts like this — unconsciously or not — about some yappy old broad on oxygen?
Oh my God, how terrible am I?
This lovely lady whom I’ve seen around a lot this week just tried to shush her small children. Those kids are about a thousand percent quieter than that lady I just nearly accidentally killed.
I remember when Megan was small some dude gave me crap about bringing her to a coffee shop. He was clearly one of those childless f*cks who just lies in wait for children to do something annoying in public (you know, like exist). Megan kept interrupting me when I was trying to talk to my sister. As we were leaving, the man commented, “And THAT’S why you don’t bring children to adult places.”
I’ve spent years hating that guy. I wonder if he’d have anything to say to my old windbaggy friend? Who could be so rude to an old lady? I mean, have some damn respect.