Unsettled Day

I knew almost from the moment of my awakening this morning that things were not going quite right.  Don’t ask me how specifically, but there was an edge to everything I did.  I suspect part of the reason was my perhaps needless concern about two meetings arranged this afternoon, one with my hair architect (Emerson), the other with John’s Music.  Even as I achingly made my way through the habits of my morning ablutions (I say “achingly” because until I am up long enough to stretch the vertebrae of my backbone I am seemingly made of uncompromising iron), so even as that was going on, I was conscious in my small minded way that the pieces of the puzzle were not fitting together as I would prefer.  In an attempt to right the day, I resolved that I would telephone Emerson’s place of business as soon as possible to ask if there were an earlier time slot for my hair cut.  I was scheduled for 2:30 p.m. and that seemed an unnecessarily long time to wait – until the middle of the afternoon – just for a hair cut.

As I made my way downstairs to the kitchen to prepare my breakfast, I pretended there was nothing amiss, that it was business as usual.  But the wheels were turning; I was caught in a web.  I must have given some private attention to my other meeting with John’s Music (where I was to collect a carrying case for my new electronic keyboard).  Likely my worry on that point was that I wouldn’t know whether the case was suitable until just the day before our departure because I had no intention of disassembling the keyboard from the stand to verify that it was a proper fit.  This was just a small detail but it irritated me to contemplate it.  It was not normal for me to have to accommodate such interests as these in the morning.  My normal routine was black coffee, fresh fruit, the computer, breakfast then bicycling on the beach for the remainder of the day.  Now I had to readjust all that for these two blasted meetings!

I was unable to withhold my patience even until nine o’clock.  At 8:30 a.m. I was on the telephone to Emerson’s salon.  My day appeared about to turn when Emerson answered the phone!  He was there!  When I asked whether he had an earlier opening, he said he would check.  This strategic deferral put me off instantly!  Check?  Check what? What could there possibly be to check at this time of the year!  Each of the past two times I had been there he had been sitting about the salon doing nothing!  Surely he didn’t feel the necessity to feign occupation to improve his status in my eyes!  When he at last reconnected with me on the phone he asked whether 2:00 p.m. would work for me.  My original appointment was at 2:30!  Anyway, I naturally couldn’t say anything but yes, so that was that!  Effectively nothing had been accomplished other than to compound my anxiety.

After all that superfluous kerfuffle I rearranged in my mind the plans I had made to go to the music store, something I had contemplated doing later in the morning after having been at Emerson’s place.  Granted it was a small inconvenience but at the time it was but one more annoyance in my day.  I decided I would go to the music store as soon as possible after breakfast.  I’d at least get that out of the way.  We agreed to do grocery shopping at the same time.

It was an “in and out” business at John’s Music Store.  The carrying case came in a clear plastic bag.  The case had obviously been folded to fit into the plastic bag.  I deposited the works in the trunk of the car, reasoning it wouldn’t be needed again until our departure for Amelia Island in March.

At the grocery store things went passably well though no thanks to the clerk at the self checkout line.  If I am going to condescend to use that self checkout I want to learn to do it myself without the interference of the supervising clerk.  However it does no good to object or to have the appearance of objecting.  The clerks incorrectly assume that people still want someone else to process their order for them even though they’ve chosen this option.

Finally, after returning home, after having had some soup for lunch, after having read some of my current book (“The Age of Innocence” by Edith Wharton – yet another mistake; I should have opted for “The Beautiful and the Damned” by F. Scott Fitzgerald if I wanted something entertaining about the pleasure seeking New Yorkers from the upper 40s), after all that delay I got myself ready to meet with Emerson.

When I got there Emerson as much as admitted that he had screwed up last time.  He blamed our distracting conversation about my new electronic keyboard for having overlooked three weeks ago during our last visit the style I had instructed him about when we first met six weeks ago.  I had to add to my stifled scolding that I also wanted a wash in addition to a mere cut and I again sketched in some tedious detail what I wanted him to do.  In the result he did what he could but the damage done last time would require another three weeks recuperation before he could set in motion what he had initially done properly six weeks ago.  Of course I recognize it’s only hair and that it can’t be at all important in anyone’s estimation, but it illustrates the general frustration that pervaded my day.

After my haircut (which I instinctively knew wasn’t yet right, a sentiment which was later confirmed at home) I drove to a nearby mall to enquire about Top Sider shoes in a double width.  Of course they hadn’t any (more disappointment even though expected), but I was directed to another store in the same mall which might.  On my way to the second store I passed an optical store.  I thought I’d enquire whether they carried the Dolabany line. Though they didn’t carry that line, the pleasant salesman showed me a number of similar frames.  None of them suited me exactly.  I did however find a pair of RayBan frames which I had had before and which appealed to me.  I bought them.  I’ll have the prescription lenses added after my eye exam in the next couple of months.

By the time I arrived home I had made up my mind to unwrap the traveling case to ensure it at least had the appearance of fitting the keyboard.  I did. Thank goodness for that mercy!

For the remainder of the day I attempted to do whatever I might to qualify myself but I simply dozed while reading that horrid Wharton text.  I do however owe it to Chef to observe that hors d’oeuvres, dinner and dessert were superb!  Crudités, crab cakes and fruit cocktail. One really can’t complain!