Another beautiful story of how life delivers whatever it is you focus on.
I was out and about late the other night and decided to get something to eat before the restaurants closed since there was nothing at the house to eat. I loaded up on burgers and birdie bits with fries and soda. When I got home Helen had just finished preparing hot dogs and baked beans in the oven for me, but alas, I was way past full and had to decline. No hot dogs on Tuesday for me.
Wednesday comes along. I'm going to the movies after work. I get to the theater a little early so I join in the fun at Chick-Fil-A and have a pre movie feast. Go in the theater and hypnotically buy popcorn and a soda. Big each. It's a habit and automatic. Sure, butter it up good. After the flick I drop by Janine's, since it is in the same parking lot as the movies, and pick up some chinese food - forgetting about the hot dogs and beans still awaiting my ingesting. I get to the house and open the fridge to put Helen's portion of the chinese away and see the wieners looking at me. They were cold. The chinese was hot. No hot dogs on Wednesday for me.
Thursday morning I am asked if I had any of the hot dogs yet. I was going to have a couple before I went to work but didn't have enough time to heat them up. Instead I had hot dogs from WaWa on the way to work. Hey, hot dogs were on my mind. They just weren't Helen's. For the record. Helen's hot dogs are tasty. I like them. I was not purposely avoiding them. I did want to eat them. It just wasn't working out. Even though I've already tasted of the wiener at the start of my day I felt obligated to continue the hot dog trail when I returned home. I was looking forward to eating them ... now ... on the third day.
On my way home I did a few errands and accidently drove by the KFC. I got as far as the drive-thru portion of the mashed potato bowl experience but came to a dead halt. The drive-thru was closed. I wasn't falling for that old trick again so I promptly made my way to the franks and beans that had been anxiously anticipating my arrival home.
Here comes the focus part.
The hot dogs and myself have been kept apart now for quite some time, seemingly by circumstances out of our control, so the spooning of the food and reheating almost seemed to be slapping destiny in the face. She was conquered and I was about to partake of the forbidden for days frankfurters and their good buddies the beans, soon to be close personal friends of mine too. The microwave alerts me to their readiness and I carry them to a place I've prepared at my desk for the eating whilst I surf online, multitasking. I usually cut the hot dogs with a fork when cooked in this fashion, but today, I decide to use a knife because they be a hearty looking wiener that deem evisceration, at least in my estimation.
I now engage in an internal dialog warning myself to be careful as I eat at the computer since liquids and foods in the electrical happenings of the computer brain have been know to kill the computer brain. I think I have it all worked out and proceed to slice the hot dogs. I lose the grip of the knife and it begins to fall into the pool of beans on the plate. I quickly thrust my hand forward to catch the knife before it lands and catch a corner of the plate sending it into the air with the knife, and the beans, and the hot dogs, and the plate, and the hopes of a satisfying dinner. Sorry Helen. Sorry computer. Sorry beans and franks. It just wasn't meant to be.
All of this heaving has brought me back to my original "prom" size. I wish I had purchased those work of art tuxedos instead of renting. The powder blues, the cream colored embossed prints, the green and black crushed velour. Pimporific Bobbolicious! Todd Oldham would be begging me to copy the prints for his next home furnishing series. I would have to say, "No, my brother, you have to get your own." (one of my favorite K-Tel commercials from back in the day)
