Tour Pathetique

It starts the way it always starts, you know.

And then I wallowed in bed for a bit, throwing pillows at the walls and whining about the injustices of my life.

After my workout I realized I was low on supplies. On my way to the store I passed the pet store and decided to go in, on a whim, because nothing is more cheerful than dogs in cages. And wouldn't you know? There he was, one lone American Eskimo puppy, sitting in the corner of his massive steel cage, and then my heart broke and my eyes welled up and I just felt useless and sad. Did I want to take that puppy home? Hell to the No I did not want to take that puppy home. I want that puppy like I want these cramps, these useless, nothingness cramps. But I did see a startlingly fat gray English Budgie that I decided to name Ernest Borgnine should I ever take him home.

I dragged my sorry self back to the car and drove to the Safeway, passing our favorite nursery which was setting up for Spring.

Our nursery in the parking lot is up! It is Spring! Except in my soul.

is what I texted The Holbs.

I hope he knows to bring me flowers today, I thought but didn't text.

That is just the kind of thing a husband should know.

And then I made the sorry walk of shame to the feminine products aisle and bought my store-brand supplies. (In the multi-pack.) (May as well keep things interesting.) The digital ovulation predictor kits were right by the tampons. So I bought one of those too. Because apparently you can't keep a good horse down. Indomitable Human Spirit. Or something.

And then something happened inside my body, wherein my fluctuating hormones spoke to my soul, which in turn messaged my brain, which then made my feet carry me to the floral department, at which point I bought an azalea tree and some blue hydrangeas.

Holbs: Scratch the flowers. I did it myself. And then some.

As I paid for my tampons, my ovulation predictors, and a bushel of aromatic, springtime blooms, it occurred to me how much of a cliche I was. I even had the hormonal break out on my cheek. All I was missing was the chocolate bar. I mean, could I get any less original?

And then I drove home with my azaleas, my tampons, my ovulation predictors, and my hydrangeas.

My car smelled delicious.