Maybe It was the Tequila

A weird thing happened last weekend. Well, a couple of weird things happened. On Friday I had to take a Covid-19 test because I woke up with body aches, chills, and a fever. No doctor would see me, so I had to do a Telehealth visit with Atlanta Urgent Care at Emory, then visit a drive-thru testing site. The doctor treated me with antibiotics and steroids starting Friday, because I am susceptible to sinus infections, which I also had symptoms of, and the steroids were because they have found that starting Prednisone at the first symptoms of Covid-19 helps you stay out of the hospital, so it was a preventative measure. After my drive-thru testing on Friday afternoon, I was instructed to self-isolate until my test came back in three to six days. So I did, except for Saturday afternoon.

I was still feeling achy on Saturday so I suggested the hot tub to see if it would help. It did! But while we were out there Jerimiah drank a pitcher of margaritas. Which would be fine, if we didn’t have a Kroger order to pick up that evening. I mean, one of us had to drive to pick up the birthday cake I had planned on getting the day before, but ended up sick in bed instead. The best laid plans, or something like that… So I said no big deal, I’d just drive us both up there. It’s a simple process. You just open your trunk, they stick the bags inside, then it closes. It’s a contact-less pick-up so I felt okay about being in the car, with my mask on, even though I was self-isolating. And it would have been fine, had we not witnessed a hit-and-walk-away accident on the way.

Ten minutes later we were at the busy intersection of Lavista and I-285, which is the perimeter that runs around Atlanta. We live about a mile from The Perimeter and were headed into Atlanta, which is where our Kroger store is, when we were stopped at the stoplight while the traffic coming from the interstate was merging onto Lavista. A sudden noise caught our attention and we looked over to see an SUV smoking, its fender barely hanging on, the driver sort of sitting, while the cars bottlenecked behind him. There was some honking, everyone was kind of wondering what was happening. Then just as our light turned green and we started to go, the SUV also went (he had a red light). He realized his error, I suppose, but instead of stopping he turned into oncoming traffic. Everyone stopped their cars and watched the next few moments unfold.

The SUV was headed straight toward the oncoming traffic, while on the overpass above the interstate. The northbound traffic had no idea he was there, as they were now merging onto Lavista from the interstate, so he quickly tried to get back onto the correct side of the road, where he slammed into another SUV who was merging from the interstate as well. It was a mess. By this time we had slowly but surely made our way up through the next light and were the second car behind the accident, so we saw everything. Jerimiah immediately called the police, which several other people were doing. I instinctively jumped out of the car and ran to check the woman who had been hit. As I approached she gave me a thumbs up. She was already on her phone, presumably to the police or her partner. While I was walking up I noticed that the man who was driving the SUV got out of his car, he seemed fine, and started to walk to the woman he had hit, then stopped for a moment, and turned and walked the other way. Like, he just walked away from the scene.

Fortunately several other people were out of their cars at this point, and someone who was on the phone with the police actually followed the man as he walked away. He never ran, he never even hastened his footsteps. It was a bizarre thing to see.

At this point I heard yelling and a man was crossing the highway running toward me (I was directing traffic at this point) telling me to chase the guy. The man approached me quickly and I didn’t have to time to respond or ask him to back up. He was very close to my face. Too close. I could smell the tequila on his breath. Ironic, as I could smell Jerimiah’s too. This man, however, wasn’t talking quite right and he was making wild gestures with his hands. I caught a glimpse of his teardrop tattoo below his eye and I asked where he came from. “The Interstate,” he said. I didn’t know what to make of that, but he seemed like he was trying to be helpful, at first. Then a few minutes of following me around while I was pointing at cars, and informing people of what was happening, the man with the tear drop tattoo started talking about, “The Black man” who was “getting away…” and how he was tired of “Black men getting away.” Luckily Jerimiah came up to us at that point and the “Interstate Man” walked away.

The police were there rather quickly, I had time to move our car, and make my way back to see Jerimiah giving a statement along with the woman who was in the car in front of us. Everyone else had left. The woman in the car was okay, I took pictures of the accident for her. Her car would not turn on so the window would not roll down so she could talk to me, but we talked through the window. It was all very odd, a little scary, and unexpected for many reasons. When Jerimiah was giving his statement he learned the car was stolen, and that the police were able to find and apprehend the suspect, as he had just continued to walk coolly, calmly, down the highway. Drugs, they assumed. Drugs, I had assumed.

Or maybe it was just tequila.

M.

Rant About Iced Tea

This is absolutely a rant about iced tea. I can’t help you at any point after this, I have warned you. I know what you are thinking, Missy this certainly can’t be a whole blog post wherein you rant about iced tea. But you’d be wrong. Very wrong. Or maybe you are right. Because this first part isn’t about tea, it’s about how wrong you are about thinking that I am not able to rant about tea. But in the wisdom of T.I. least I remind you, “Public violations justify public demonstrations,” and what I witnessed today on the Kroger website was nothing short of a public violation.

I like Kroger. I do. I shop there because they are friendly and efficient. They generally have everything I need, they are usually the lowest price around (unless you count Walmart, but I do not), and most importantly they offer free pick-up, which we’ve been relying on since the start of the pandemic. But today, oooohhhh, today I got my feathers all in a tizzy when I tried to order a gallon of unsweetened iced tea.

It seems, on the surface, like a no-brainer. I love iced tea, but I do not enjoy the calories that come in sweet iced tea. Nor can my body tolerate the amount of sugar that one finds in “Southern Sweet Tea.” It’s too much, y’all. I can’t do it. Call me a “Yankee” all you want, I cannot sip on iced sugar with a smattering of tea on the top. I enjoy the flavor of a good store-brand, unsweetened, iced tea. Some things to know: I have a home iced tea brewing machine, however I have not found a tea that I like the taste of when I brew it at home. I also do not like most brands of iced tea. I do not like Lipton or Turkey Hill. I do not like Milo or Pure Leaf. I despise Arizona Tea. I like Red Diamond, but they do not sell it around these here parts. So I usually get a store-brand iced tea because they seem to all taste the same, but I have narrowed my flavor choices down to Publix iced tea and Kroger iced tea. Those are my two favorites if I cannot have Red Diamond. End of story. Periodt.

So, today while I was making my shopping order from Kroger I remembered that I needed a gallon of iced tea. Unsweetened, caffeinated, iced tea. Now you’re like, Missy come on, all tea if caffeinated, that’s nuts. You’re wrong again. Not all tea is caffeinated, and according to Kroger people who want unsweetened tea also want it to be caffeine-free. D’what? You read that correctly: The only kind of unsweetened iced tea that I could order from Kroger, made by Kroger, was also caffeine-free.

(Deep, long sigh).

When I want to sit on my sunporch and enjoy a crisp glass of iced tea with a lemon wedge, I also want to get a little jittery from the amount of caffeine in my glass. I want to find some motivation at the bottom of that glass, ya dig? I only drink two glasses of iced coffee a day, then I drink a can of seltzer water, then I want a damn glass of iced tea in the afternoon for a pick-me-up and WHY CAN I NOT HAVE THAT KROGER?!

(Deep breathing exercises along with some Kegels for good measure).

I don’t want to use the word “persecuted” here, but I feel like, as a person who does not want sweet tea, I am being made to “pay for it.” Am I overreacting? Yes, certainly. But to be honest I haven’t had my afternoon tea, and well, it seems I won’t anytime soon so this is just the new me I guess. I’m sorry, but this is all Kroger’s fault and now I will go write them a strongly-worded email to feel better.

I hope you have a wonderful day. Like really, really good. Like sipping on Kroger, unsweetened, caffeinated, iced tea on your back porch good.

M.

It’s 5 O’clock Somewhere

It’s 5 o’clock here, in Georgia. Five a.m. to be exact. So I’m not sipping a gin and tonic on the beach. I’m in my warm, cozy bed and I’m awake and staring, once again, at the light coming from the cracks in the curtains. I do this from time to time when I’m stressed and anxious and feeling the weight of all the problems of the world on my shoulders.

Stress manifests itself in bizarre ways with me. First there is the “I can’t sleeps”, then comes the bad dreams. Eventually I wake up with a clenched jaw, clenched gut, and more recently clenched fists. The first time this happened I thought I was developing arthritis. I’d wake up at 3:00 am and my hands would ache. It would hurt at the joints, just to move them. Then one day it was my elbow. Then one day it was my knee.

A couple months later it happened again. Then again. And I started to see the trend. That’s when I realized the ways stress manifests itself into physical pains in my body.

Listen, I’m not too bright. It took me a long time to realize that stress does this. Sure people told me. Doctors told me, therapists told me, that 84-year-old woman at the Kroger check-out told me, but I didn’t listen. The stomach issues, the joint pain, the migraines and cluster headaches, the weight gain, I chalked it all up to other things. But in reality I know what it is. I just don’t know how to stop it. And that stresses me out. It’s cyclic. Duh.

So here I am. In my bed, my husband snoring peacefully along next to me, and I’m thinking about all the things I need to do. All the people I’m probably disappointing, all the ups and downs that will be my next few days, and have been my last few. And I’m warming up my hands for a new day to tackle the tasks.

Don’t get me wrong. Not all days are like this. Not all days, or weeks, or months are spent waking up at odd hours and worrying, but when they are like this, I’m glad I have an outlet to let things float out into the ether. It makes me feel less alone. Because sometimes I need reminded that I am not alone. Maybe you do too.

❤️

M.