Tenterhooks

I don’t know what they are, exactly, but goddamn them.  Time running out, whipsawed between waiting for a promised immediate definitive call back from a well-meaning woman at the credit card company with slightly insufficient attention to detail and a long trip by subway, bus and foot to allay, to the extent I can, the stress of someone I’ve stressed out by my own slightly insufficient attention to detail lately.

Seeking to reduce her stress, I am on tenterhooks, real or imagined, since I need to leave and was just promised that if I stay I’ll get an immediate call back with a definitive answer I don’t absolutely need until around 9 Central Time (it’s 4:14 Central Time now).  

Time to use my imagination to cast the tie-breaker against reality, whatever that may be.  Here we go:  I can imagine myself on the subway, standing now, since it’s rush hour, listening to a podcast, not minding a bit.  I can imagine finding a vexingly lost item where I hope it is when I get back to the farm, having time to make a surprise dinner for my stressed out, exhausted partner who will be particularly happy to see me if my vexing stories turn out to have happy endings.  

And if not, misery, as they say, loves company.   Y’allah, let’s get the show on the road! 

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