Happy Pieces

Last night I had a splitting sinus headache. Good, I thought, then I can cancel my meeting with the accountant. Which makes no sense because his job is to help me do my books, and the more trouble I'm having, the more incentive I should have to meet with him, after all, that's what I'm paying him for. Who said I was rational? My fear, if you dig down deep to reveal it's ugly mass, is that he will judge me, I guess, look at me and say, "Who do you think you are trying to run a business???"

So, I woke up, lying in bed and feeling the onset of a headache. Yes! I'll call in and say I have a migraine. But as I stood up the headache receded. After breakfast I wished and I washed, but eventually decided I would have time to cram in last minute bookkeeping and make it to my 11am appointment with a little bit of pride. I threw my notebook and computer into a grocery bag made from recycled plastic with an alligator printed on the side. Arriving, I displayed it to the accountant, bragging, "You like my alligator brief case?" "Um, wasn't your appointment for 1pm?" Luckily, he was fine fitting me in. Unluckily he discovered I hadn't reconciled accounts since September.

I sat at a table, reconciling, pausing to ask him questions as he did other work. Once he came over, said, "You're going to hate me" and wiped out all my hard work. I was $583 off, and he wanted me to recheck. "Young, Grasshopper, one must learn by doing," I teased him.

Two and a half hours later I left feeling I had accomplished something and maybe learned Quickbooks a little bit more. Except for that niggling $1750 deposit I have no record receiving. Still, I was smiling, feeling like I'd accomplished something difficult yet rewarding.

After sustenance I headed to Whole Foods for the shopping. Barring Halo Farms, the oddly nicknamed "world's largest micro-dairy" which sells lactose-free milk at $1.33/half gallon, Whole Foods is the cheapest at a mere $3.80/half gallon. Jeez! Unfortunately Halo Farms is almost an hour away, so when Uncle E cannot make his weekly delivery, we're stuck with Whole Foods. This week he was off.

Almost at the check-out, I remember to check for ginger preserves. I've checked at a couple of the local supermarkets, sure I'd purchased them there before, but with no luck. A young clerk led me to the appropriate aisle. I reached my hand towards a slightly turned promisingly gold-filled glass jar, turning it to read the label. "Yes!" I shouted, raising the last jar into the air and dancing! "Ginger preserves!" Alone in the aisle, I began happily dancing to the jazzy piped-in supermarket music. Looking up I saw an older woman gazing at me smiling. "More people should be like you!" she exclaimed. I giggled, thinking to myself, "You mean all broken bits on the inside?" I guess a few happy pieces floated to the top.