Today I'm hitting the hard stuff -- the Sea Salt and Vinegar chips and the See's Candy. Because:
- Last Thursday, the tax man wrote an email -- "Trouble in River City." He's had a computer crash and lost all the data we spent an hour giving him orally.
- My daughter's been sick all week. On Friday we got the diagnosis -- Strep and Mononucleosis. She's sleeping 18 hours a day and groaning about her enlarged spleen.
- My husband -- well, he's up in the air. Literally. On Friday morning, he got confirmation (after we'd given up hope) that yes, he was leaving for Africa on a 7 a.m. Saturday flight. He's been unexpectedly recruited for a position as Personal Advisor to the President of a mid-sized African Country, and he's going for a couple of weeks to check it out. Yes, it's surreal, but yes, it's also real. So we ran to the airport to pick up his first-class ticket. He ran to get his hair cut diplomat-style. He spent all night packing for Cabinet meetings and cyclones and, and, at this moment (Sunday, mid-day), he's up in the air still flying, almost thirty hours after leaving SFO. I've been tracking his progress on the Air France website. His flight out of Paris was late, turned back because of a "technical incident," and now is somewhere over Africa and due to arrive at his destination in another four hours or so.
- I'm bringing my daughter back in to Kaiser for a spleen check in an hour.
- Oh yes, and the dog has a really nasty rash.
I'm under deadlines. I'm supposed to be writing. But like my husband, I, too, am up in the air. The airplane I'm on is crossing over a continent I've never visited, and I'm scattered, concerned, excited, confused.
So last night, brandy. Today, chocolate and potato chips.
Because if my plane is going down, or even if it's just about to land in the most exotic and exciting place I've ever been, I want to arrive with a good taste in my mouth.