2018-01-08 / Columns

IT’S JUST ME

Just dropping off some mail ... noooooo!
KLONIE JORDAN — Executive Editor

Seems like the older I get, the more errands I have to run.

Sometimes they’re not such a problem, but sometimes they’re just plain old annoying.

Various things can complicate the running of errands, such as weather conditions, one’s state of mind at the time, fatigue or any other number of variables.

Weather conditions are a huge factor in the way I set up my scheduling. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s been a bit of a drop in temperatures lately, and by “a bit” I mean “huge.” It’s strayed from the normal average daytime high of 51 degrees to places on the thermometer where mercury has never been before.

There’s no reason for it to ever be 7 degrees in South Carolina. The other night, my golf clubs jimmied the lock from the inside of my car, jumped out of the trunk, broke down the door, bounced inside and cozied up to the fireplace.

The other night as I was leaving the office and walking to the parking lot, I had just about had enough of the cold. It was actually biting at my legs through my pants like one of those toothy little dinosaurs in the Jurassic Park movies. What did they call those ... Chompasaruses or something? I felt like I was in the Iditarod and my dogs had abandoned me and left me alone to die in the arctic wilderness.

I was afraid my knees would freeze in place before I got to my vehicle and I would collapse. In the morning they would find my lifeless body stuck to the ground. It would make a Velcro-like sound when Dennis Fowler and his crew pried me off the icy surface. What a way to go.

On the aforementioned walk to the car and with the aforementioned guard dog-like temperatures clawing at my legs, I had to release my frustration, so I yelled out as loud as I could, “It’s too @$%&^*(@& cold to live!” (I didn’t really swear; I just like to use ampersands whenever I can.)

Of course that didn’t make it any warmer but it did sort of make me feel better.

The car I was driving has heated seats but my butt still wasn’t warm when I pulled into my driveway. I sat there for a few minutes trying to get up enough courage to exit the vehicle and walk inside, a distance of just a few steps, but it seemed like a half-mile in the freezing cold.

For a while I considered calling Dottie inside the house and telling her to hook up an electric blanket to some extension cords and let it get hot and then come and wrap it around me and walk me inside. No, seriously, I did consider that as a viable beat-the-cold option.

I don’t know if it’s ever been this cold for this long around here. Still, life goes on, even in less-than-pleasant meteorological conditions.

These temperatures can result in any number of problems. For example, I try to limit the amount of time I subject my body to such conditions, which means I sometimes get in a hurry.

Remember those errands I mentioned earlier (I know, I know, it seems like such a long time ago)? Well, I set out to complete a few of those in this dreadful atmospheric milieu and in so doing, I theorized that if I got them done quickly, the sooner I could get out of the cold.

I had to swing by the bank, the doctor’s office, go home to pick up some diabetes medicine I had forgotten that morning, and then cruise through the drive-through lane at the post office to deposit some mail in the drop-box.

I was making pretty good time and no biological extremities had yet frozen off when I arrived at my final errand stop, the post office.

I put the window down, reached out and dropped three envelopes into the box. As soon as I let them go — before they even hit the bottom of the box — I wanted to cram my arm into the dark cold depths of that box and grab them in mid-air. I let go with an obstreperous nooooooooo so loud that it caused the windshield to momentarily expand outward.

I’m such a moron. I had forgotten to put stamps on the envelopes. Now I just know the postal worker is going to laugh and giggle when he brings those envelopes back to my house and tosses them into my mailbox.

You would think the post office would go ahead and deliver those out of the goodness of their heart, wouldn’t you?

That’s what happens when you get in a hurry.

I blame it on the weather.

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