sunday night

Mentally, physically, and emotionally fried, evaporated and scrambled, respectively, i read A Thousand Splendid Suns by the dim yellow glow of my book light while Josh drove and scanned radio stations. There was a lightning storm in the distance, made eerier by the cloudless sky. The protagonist in my book was given a burka to wear. She went 27 years without signing her name to a piece of paper. We stopped for gas for Rex and food for me. It was too late for a dinner, not late enough to not eat, and my guts and blood still contained 2 donuts, a vanilla latte, a raspberry beer, 4 slices of margherita pizza and half a ream of saltine crackers. i made at least five circuits through the Chevron food store, marveling that i could wear jeans and a fitted shirt, that my husband could not tell me to not leave the car, that i had cash in my pocket to spend how i wanted, that i had makeup on and a man's haircut. Nothing looked edible, everything was accessible. Milk looked delicious, so i grabbed some. Made another circuit, and saw the Cup-Of-Noodles. i realized the universe was confused. There was lightning without rain and i had won a match of Settlers but lost at Nerts. i didn't know what to do in this vortex of exhaustion. i hoped Chevron had a way of giving me hot water for the noodles, but wouldn't pick them up until i knew for sure. i circled some more. Josh had long since finished pumping gas and was waiting for me in the parking spots. Microwave. i could get water from the bathroom and heat it. i knew there was a fork underneath the passenger seat of my car. The fork belongs to my employer. i retreived the noodles and went to pay. The blonde lady was amiable and told me there were utensils around the corner and hot water out of the cappucino machine. i wanted to tell her that i was glad we could both have jobs and not stay at home making daal all day, but i didn't. i found the cappucino machine and in a minute the digital screen read 'brewing'. Seconds later, dark Colombian coffee was dribbling into my chicken flavored dehydrated noodles, so i removed them and let it fill the tray underneath the metal grate. It almost overflowed, and i didn't want to have to impose on the nice lady, so i rationalized that i could always take off my long sleeved shirt, mop up the coffee and exit if necessary. i pressed the 'hot water' button and pressed start. Nothing happened. Repeat. Same results. i realized one more effort would quantify me as insane, so i gathered my last two wits and rubbed them together. Pressed 'hot water' and realized the digital screen said to press and hold. Marvelous. i looked for utensils and didn't see them. Completely without trust for my powers of perception, i determined my seat fork would be just fine and slowly walked out, holding my cold milk and hot coffee noodles. i managed to eat the complicated, piping hot tangle without spilling, but dribbled milk down my front. We passed the scene of an accident where a big rig was in such a torn and tangled state that it was impossible to determine how it had come to be in that position. i silently determined that the bewildered universe and out-of-place lightning was the cause. 14 hours later, i can't tell if the vortex has lifted or not.