I've got to tell you about last Friday. We were moving lots of furniture from my in-laws, rather husband's and his brother's house--since they closed the deal (sale to a young couple) on Tuesday--to a storage unit closer to where we actually live. I'd called (on several occasions trying to work out all the details for this move) and talked with a guy that's in the business (apparently on the side of his towing business) of renting U-Haul trucks and trailers, etc.. We had to line up some muscle (i.e., strong young lads) to load the truck on the front end of the journey and similar help to un-load on the final end.
I think I could write a book about it all. The experience was "colorful" and like reading a book--for some reason I felt rather detached from the incredibly improbable circumstances involved that may be, more typical that I realize of how some things just are in this life. Anyway, since I do write books--I haven't braved trying to get them published yet, I kept thinking I should take notes so I could get the multitude of details imprinted in my brain. It was wonderful fodder for future writing.
Remind me, if I forget, or lose track of time, to tell you the story. I really didn't get as uptight as I normally would in a situation like it was because I kept thinking how great the "scene" would be in a story. My son and I actually chuckled through a lot of the hour and a half experience (my husband did not)--and believe me--it was an experience.
Somehow I'm just now thinking of Seinfeld, the TV show (did I misspell his name?) and some of the ridiculous sets of circumstances some of those episodes contained. That Friday, I just kept watching and listening--and interacting from time to time--thinking it was rich and needed to be recorded.
Remind me to sit down and write it one day. . . Hopefully my life won't be so crazy and loaded with stuff as it has been for the past couple of months--or longer. Anyway, I need to do it before I forget all the details, right?
