Flying Rats

I'm walking nonchalantly through the parking lot to buy groceries enjoying the beautiful sunshine and great weather. It's a Florida thing. Puffy white clouds bright sun and a slight gulf breeze were just mesmerizing. I found a parking space close to the door. I'm enjoying life and ignoring the pain in my arm from the surgery. I'm heading to the pharmacy to retrieve my prescriptions to ease the dull arm ache and kill any bad germs that may be attacking my innards.
The fact that I took an entire day off from work also may me giddy.
All of a sudden just like the Alfred Hitchcock movie, 'The Birds', with Tippi Hedron, - they came - out of nowhere. A gigantus flock of them flying ever so low over the parking lot and my head. The ultimate displeasure happened. Plop. Right on my head and dribbling down my face. OMG. The flying rats were dumping their waste right on top of me and it wasn't coming from their beaks. How embarrassing - how demeaning - how disgusting. What to do? I need that medicine and I need it now!
I pondered the situation and realized my pain needed drugs. I strutted right inside the store grabbed several of the wipes that they keep by the front door to remove fecal matter from the grocery carts and I started wiping. Actually I used half of the canister. I did one last wipe of my hands and strolled right up to the prescription drop-off counter. The pharmacist gave me a strange look but I stood my ground. I waited impatiently in line for my prescriptions and ignored the stares and whispers. My payback for taking the entire day off????

Cruisin

I'm kneeling on the super sized bed with my face pressed against the porthole in our lush stateroom. No balcony here but we have a huge window to view the sea. I watch the crew as they slip the gigantic ropes off the dock and slowly we start to move away from land. The blue sky is filled with puffy white clouds. The sun shines upon the water turning it a marvelous shade of aqua as the slight breeze ripples the still waters. A holiday trip awaits hubby and me.
Then, the light bulb (actually it seemed like a floodlight) goes off. OMG, I realize that my much needed can't live without medicine is home on the kitchen counter. It's not granite just the neutral Formica. My light bulb and my blood pressure blows and goes dark.
What to do? Jump ship? Cancel the voyage? Ask the captain to wait till I go home (1 hour) and return to the ship (another hour) so we can begin our cruise? I'm sure that would go over like a deflated life raft.
I'm in panic mode. I take in my deep belly yoga breathes and try to relax. The light comes back on - dimly - like the lower part of the dimmer switch. I call my pharmacist and spill the awful truth. A few tears and hiccups seals the deal. He doesn't laugh, criticise or lecture me. I tell him our first stop is Key West. He calmly informs me that he will call the pharmacy in Key West and have my much needed life sustaining medicine ready for my retrieval on the next day. He also assures me that one day with out my meds will not cause my death.
I'm thinking after we disconnect from the line there's lots of laughter at the pharmacy. If only my head were attached better to the rest of my body or my brain worked in a more normal pattern.
The next day we race to the pharmacy to pick up the much needed medicine and relaxed a bit as we toured the island. We lunched with my brother spent money on trinkets and t-shirts and moved on to the next port. Mexico was hot and our adventure was exciting. More trinket shopping and back to the ship on time. We sailed away into the night with stars lighting our way back to the states. The cruise was enchanting and restful. Christmas at sea is a happy experience especially when you have your life sustaining medicine. It could have been worse or worser. When we returned home from the cruise I read the headline, 'Woman Lost At Sea.' I wonder if she had forgotten her medicine and jumped over board to swim back to shore to retrieve her meds? Or my gut feeling is that the husband pushed her over the rail. I wonder if my hubby had similar notions?