LONG DAY ... BEER AND PIZZA

I am having a very long day.  I am on my feet teaching straight through, four long classes in a row.  I work through lunch.  I have three meetings in a row: one in the far end of the building, one next to my own room, and one way out in the library that connects our middle school to the high school. 

I get to work at 6:50 a.m.  I leave work at 5:15 p.m.  The only times I have to sit down and relax are the three times I pee in the ten-plus hours that I've been here.

My youngest, who still lives with me, has lacrosse tonight.  Making dinner at this late hour is out of the question.  When I finally get home, I ask him to call in a pizza.  Somehow, though, between his phone call and me walking down and picking up the pizza, there is a snafu; the pizza place claims he never called in the pizzas.  We have the pizza place on speed dial, so I know this is just a mistake on someone's part ... ours or theirs. 

"Did he call a different pizza place?" they ask me.  NEVER, I tell them, we would NEVER get our pizza anywhere else.  

They offer to give me a pizza that is already in the oven.  This means someone else will have to wait for a pizza.   No way will I do that to another harried customer.  "You have beer here, right?"

Finally, yes, finally I get to sit down.  This pizza order mistake is the best thing that has happened to me all day long.  I sit by myself, chatting with the pizza people (I love them all), and watching Sports Center on the telly.  A cold beer, my own booth, and some downtime.  This is exactly what I need, and I only get it because of a snafu.

I don't care what happened or how it happened, but my pizza is ready right about the same time my beer is finished.  Life is wonderful, I don't have to cook dinner, and I'm out of work for the day.  If the rest of my evening is like this, I think I can handle it.