From Myth to Reality

Margaret Cho said it best: When she met a man who possessed so many of the qualities she was looking for – a kind, gentle, caring, intelligent, truthful, and cute guy – the only question that came to her mind was, “Are you a unicorn??” I honestly think I’ve found one, and am excited to no end. It was another wonderful, relaxing weekend replete with rest and fun – so much fun, in fact that I couldn’t get to sleep last night because I didn’t want to miss a minute with him. It made this morning a bit rough, but it was worth it.

A true sweetheart, he baked blueberry muffins on Sunday night so that we would both have something to eat for breakfast. When my alarm sounded at 5:45 this morning, I rose out of bed, said my goodbyes, pulled on my “driving clothes” (read: clothes from the day before), and headed out the door, grabbing a muffin and a Diet Coke on the way. Not used to starting the trip in the darkness of daylight savings time, I glided out of the driveway and pulled away into what was left of the midnight mist. I cracked open the Diet Coke and took a few sips before turning onto the two-lane country road that would lead me along the fifty-mile trek home.

Only eight miles into the trip, I found myself thirsty again. I was, in my muddled mind, reliving highlights from the weekend simultaneously with keeping the car between the dashed yellow and solid white lines and reaching for the soda. As I lifted the drink to my lips, I could hear metallic pops and fizzing coming from within the can. Suddenly, it disappeared; it had slipped right through my morning butterfingers. The pops and fizzing sounds were replaced by hissing and gurgling, and my hand shot down to recover the upset drink. I grabbed it on the first attempt, only to hear more sounds of effervescence as I inadvertently emptied the remainder of the can’s contents onto the driver’s floor mat.

Anytime I have a 50% chance for success, it seems like lady luck always gives me the cold, sticky, bubbling shoulder. My personal Murphy’s law must state somewhere that I will pick up an overturned can in the upside-down position every time; I hope never to test this supposition again. At least I was able to spend two and half days with a mythical creature. I smiled at the thought, grabbed some old Wendy’s napkins from the glove compartment, and laid them over the spill. What a nice few days…