I’ve been having a bad day. Well, a bad week, to be honest. I had some kind of back spasm on Monday, and while I’m up and about now, it was just no fun. I have costumes to make, a house to clean, a party to shop for and the various and sundry obligations that got deferred as I lay flat on my back have created quite a weight on me. So when Keith called to gloat about getting taken out to lunch, that was the last straw.

I packed up the laptop and headed out to Zingerman’s for a curative magic brownie. And a sandwich, too. I’m not yet ready to classify the plan as an outright mistake, but it’s bordering on it.

What is it with the gridlock thing at the corner of Main and Huron? These people going southbound somehow feel it’s their right to pull into the intersection, even if it will block cross traffic when the light changes. I can almost understand it on the morning of a football game, but at 1:00pm on a Friday afternoon? Some young woman in a non-descript white sedan pulled this trick today, blocking both lanes of cross traffic. I pulled up close to her car and laid on the horn and she got all freaked out, waving her hands like it wasn’t her fault. No, darling, it was you who decided to pull into the intersection.

After waiting nearly 10 minutes for 4 (yes, it took 4 of them) out of town yahoos to figure out the newfangled parking meter machine at Kerrytown, I did manage to get into Zingermans, which was an effing zoo. Still is, in fact. Standing in line, I got to listen to some young man yammer into his cell about how he was never getting married because the wife of one of his buddies won’t let him go out tonight. Charming. I did manage to find a table inside, but it came at a price. Apparently, his name is Jack, he looks about 18 months old, and he has not stopped making noise – alternating yells, screeches and various other non-verbal grunts – since I’ve been here.

Sandwich is good, though. Well, mostly. It’s a number 44 and I asked for it on challah. One piece of bread is the right size, but the other is from the end of the loaf and just isn’t working to keep everything together. Too small. Sigh.

But Jack the Loud is leaving now. And I’m almost ready to dive into the brownie. And Sam organized a euchre party tonight, that believe it or not, I’m actually looking forward to. The day may be salvageable yet.