Neighbors - on a Saturday morning

Saturday morning. Not yet 7 and you're already awake. The cat started it, then the list of things you need to do starts scrolling on that little BrainMarquis. The one that doesn't know the different between the compartments of your life. So the marquis tells you the best way to rearrange your office at work when they move your're looking for greater efficiency...then it tells you how you didn't put away the new beads you just bought (which is bad if you need to be using them to make new necklaces this week, and you need to have a good handle on inventory and where everything is.) Then it scrolls to the errand you need to run later this morning, and that's followed by a reminder of those seeds (and the newer ones you added to the collection last week) and how they never got planted. Pretty soon you know it's useless to turn back over and so you get up to make the coffee and start another day.

Only to realize you don't have any milk for your coffee. You're not much into black coffee, although you'd drink it that way if you had to. Neighbors. Hm. Furniture Market is in progress and you know your neighbor is "working market" but maybe she's not gone yet.

It's evil to call someone when they're frantically trying to get out the door. Now. You know it in their voice, and they tell you. And you don't say "Okay, well have a nice day and I hope it goes well for you." You say, "Well if I come right now can I borrow some milk?" You're already slipping on your shoes, simultaneously buttoning the jeans you pulled on while the phone was ringing. Hesitation on the other end. "If you come right now." You run. Haven't even walked yet this morning, and you're running down the street, around the house that separates your house from hers, heels squishing the backs of the shoes you slipped on so fast. No socks. It's chilly. You've pulled on a long-sleeve tee shirt you've never worn before. Not quite sure where it came from but good sleeves for cutting the chill. She'll be surprised you got there so fast.

Wow! NeighborFriend looks so pretty in this new professional outfit you've never seen before. She's neither impressed you've gotten there so fast nor that you think she looks so pretty. Can you go now? She's polite, you generously agree to take the whole carton...anything to get that milk to your house, and you out of hers. She's really and truly in a hurry.

I love my friends. They are very good to me. On a scale from one to, say, 43, I wonder about my selfishness rating. Then I don't care when I smell the coffee that's just finished. It's gonna' be good...