007

Left my hometown this morning. As a parting precious, I happened to overhear a late-boarding passenger tell his seatmate how TSA held him and "made a huge deal" over the fact that he packed an undisclosed, disassembled pistol in his suitcase. He picked it up at a rummage sale last week. It's not even loaded. He then lamented the state of national affairs with this insight: "you know...when other folks don't do good it makes it hard on everybody else." You gotta give it to him, though, you know? I mean, I panic over whether they're going to eighty-six my overpriced facial moisturizer. This guy packs a bunch of pistol parts without a flinch. That takes guts. And he had quite a large one, now that I think of it. In your face, Homeland Security. You ignoramuses.

On a separate note, let me tell you the latest in what appears to be a continuing streamline of blessings sent down from heaven. I was inches, centimeters, away from buying a new bed during the Macy's Labor Day Sale. I was ready to do it, but not too keen on spending so much green. My parents encouraged me to go forward with the purchase, mostly likely because an investment such as a new bed might help me embrace the fact that I am, in fact, an adult woman approaching her mid-thirties and no longer justified in sleeping on an undergrad-grade level twin. As if my lower back isn't already telling me this on a daily basis.

I'd gone to Macy's on Saturday, talked with the sales guy, Jesse, and picked out the mattress I wanted. I wanted to sleep on it, though. Not the mattress, the prospect. Determined to have my mind made up by Monday, the last day of the sale, I went home and talked about it with all my sisters, my parents, a few friends and our cat, Winifred. I went to bed Sunday night fully intending to drag Jen with me and make the deal.

Woke up Monday morning, and just didn't feel good about it at all. So I didn't. It would mean a list of inconveniences to not get the bed, but I'd deal with it. I'd get on craigslist, find some used thing, rent a U-haul for a day, since I don't have a car, or any friends with trucks, or any friends of any kind, and it would work out somehow.

Monday evening, I get a call from my landlady, who also happens to be a close friend. "Hey," she says. "I just left the house, and everything's all ready for you tomorrow. Quick question, the girl that's moving out left her bed here, and was wondering if you'd be interested in buying it from her. You interested?"

I mean is that cool or what? I need to make a list of all the so-called little things that have happened akin to this bed experience, all of which are so marvelous to me. I've uprooted, moved across country, and started over at least three different times since graduating from college, and this by far has been the most seamless, by far the most effortless experience I've had. And seldom can anyone say that a move of this scope could be described as effortless. It's nothing short of miraculous.