I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Maybe it’s a result of turning two score and 10 or half-century old. Or maybe it is some malady caused by the vulgarity and acidity we call political season.
Or, maybe I’ve just gotten clumsy.
Whatever it is, I don’t like it, but it sure does help you realize not to take yourself to seriously.
I am a tea drinker and I come from a long line of tea drinkers.
Other health issues, including a family history of diabetes, have led me to change from sweet tea to unsweet tea.
Unsweet tea is, in a word, yucky. Daddy told me when he was in the hospital last year on a no salt, no sugar diet that he hoped the Lord never punished him again by making him drink unsweet tea. Mama has been drinking unsweet for a long time and my genetics apparently follow hers. I am not diabetic, but the trend line is headed that way.
So, my doctor suggested giving up sweet tea.
I can tolerate it as long as I use copious amounts of Splenda and crushed ice. It almost makes a reasonable impersonation of sweet tea.
But, I don’t like to wear it.
Yet, that’s exactly what happened last week.
I fixed my unsweet tea with crushed ice doctored up with Splenda and went to settle myself in and relax. I had my gussied up unsweet tea in a red Solo cup in one hand and various paraphernalia for reading, writing and resting in the other. I needed my cup holding hand for another task and so I held the cup with my teeth.
That was not a bright or smart idea, especially when bending to sit down. I dumped most of the contents of said red Solo cup into my own lap.
I made an immediate note to myself to not do that again.
Apparently, that lesson needed to be reinforced.
Just a few days later on that first really cool morning of the year, I woke up in a chilly house and stumbled in the darkness down the hall to the fridge.
There’s nothing like an ice cold Diet Coke to open your eyes and warm you up in the morning — for breakfast.
Yes, I’m strange. I fumbled around in the predawn darkness never thinking to turn on the lamp. I’m that bright — or not-so-much.
I reached for the Great Smoky Mountain’s coaster featuring a bear on my lamp table beside my recliner. The next stop would be the television remote to check and see if the sky fell overnight.
But, I missed. The next thing I know, I had cold Diet Coke and carbon fizz everywhere. My reaction time was delayed because my wits were still addled from sleeping. My feet were covered with ice cold Diet Coke on the chilliest morning of the year.
I finally got my feet warm again after wrapping them up in a comforter.
Grandma always told me things come in threes, so I tried to be extra careful and not so clumsy in the days following.
I decided, in light of all the stresses going on and all the clumsiness in my life that I would reward myself.
I bought myself chocolate chip cookies to please me, make me feel better and to satisfy my sweet cravings, even if I had to wash them down with unsweet tea and Diet Coke.
I just determined that maybe I needed to super glue or duct tape the cups of unsweet tea and bottles of Diet Coke to my hand.
Only thing is, as I got home and started to open my chocolate chip cookies, I did not have them. I left them at the store.
I was exasperated with and mad at myself. I made myself go stand in the corner and pout. I told myself “if you don’t stop that crying, I’ll give you something to cry for.”
Oh, well. Tomorrow is a new day. A good day for buying super glue and duct tape and hope for the best.
