“The camel has a single hump,
The dromedary two;
Or else the other way around,
I’m never sure, are you?”
- Ogden Nash
I put J. on a plane yesterday morning, and it was horrible. Somehow the first six months of this project were awful but doable, but the prospect of the last three months somehow feels unbearable all of a sudden.
I was determined to get him off to London with a stiff upper lip, lots of support, the usual sort of thing…and then on Tuesday night we went to Target to pick up a few last minute things for him. We walked into the store and I froze like I’d slammed into a brick wall. The whole thing had apparently undergone a massive renovation in under a week. Every single department had been shifted around, the layout had been completely changed, and I couldn’t find anything.
And apparently that was enough to trigger the randomest of neurotic collapses. Minor existential crises, a husband leaving the country, and work concerns and ambitions piling up I could handle. But screw up my local Target and that poor camel of legend is done for.
J. held back howls of laughter as I marched through the store muttering, “What is this doing here? Who’s idea was this? This is all wrong!”
“Look,” he said, trying not to snicker, “now you’ll have to come back and explore it. It’ll make for a fun shopping trip.”
“I am never coming back here,” I vowed.
Because…because…” I looked around trying to put a name to the problem before settling on, “Because someone moved my cheese!”
After making it home, having a cute cuddle and a quick cry, I felt better. But only marginally. After dropping him off at the airport I was so out of it I missed my exit and had to go on a bit of a highway adventure to get back on track. Two days later, I still feel like the cosmos have moved my cheese. My equilibrium is off, kittens, and I’m struggling trying to get it back.
Basically, I’m sad and having a bad day.