CLOUDY THOUGHTS

I like to look at clouds.  I've been doing this my whole life, and I can still fondly recall many times lazing out on the hill at my elementary school (during recess and during the summer when we'd bike there), cooling off in the tall grass, and gazing up at the sky watching the clouds. Of course, sometimes my cloud fascination is not conducive to the reality around me, like the time I completely missed an exit from the highway because ... surprise ... I was fascinated by clouds.  I suppose I could have much worse vices.

Today I have a long list of things to do: look for shoes at two stores (I have coupons to both), buy a thread holder at the fabrics/crafts store, look for a thumb brace (for my newly diagnosed arthritis), find a 2019 planner at Staples, shop at Pier 1 with my discount, and buy lots of books with gift cards.

My shoe quest is unsuccessful.  I find some boots at both places where I stop, but neither calls to me enough to buy them.  I do buy some lovely earrings, though.  Before I go to the fabric store, I drive by the lot that used to be my house, the lot that sits empty and fenced in now that the house has burned to the ground so thoroughly that the foundation is a crater.  Once I compose myself, bang a uey, and get back to the fabric store, I find the thread holder on sale, some needle threaders, and a few other doodads that I don't need.

The thumb brace is a bust.  Apparently, I can pay half the price by ordering the brace online, so I'm not worried after trying three different stores.  Well, other than the fact that my thumb is killing me and the intermittent pain is like a toothache in my palm.  Yeah, other than that, everything is hunky dory.

I head over to Pier 1 where I see plates I'd love to buy (but don't), furniture I have to have (but don't), and decor I contemplate scouring more closely (but don't).  Regardless of an excellent coupon, I leave the store empty-handed, something I rarely do.  Not a candle, not a bauble, not anything.  I'm proud of myself, and I take this as a sign that I might make it home with money in my wallet.

On my way to the last stop, the book store, I am sitting at a stop light when I randomly look up.  It's starting to cloud up, and the sky is supposed to remain mostly cloudy for days, maybe even weeks.  I look at the clouds filling in, no big deal, this happens in New England all of the time.

Then, I see a tuft of puffiness in the air.  It's not connected to anything nor is it part of any roadside oddity.  What I notice is a cloud.  It's not just any cloud; it's round.  It looks like a gray stone in the gray sky of a gray day.  Well, a very fluffy stone.  I am totally into this cloud.  It looks like a pompom sitting by itself in a grayish sky, like it doesn't belong, like a ball of cotton down or a dandelion tuft.

It's so weird (truly) and different than any cloud that I've ever seen, and I almost miss my turn for the book store.  Surprise, surprise.

I make it to the book store parking lot, half convinced that the damn cloud is a sign of total meltdown.  It is not a meltdown; it's probably a warning: "Don't go into the bookstore!  You have shelves full of unread books at home..."  And that's when I realize that it's probably not a cloud at all.  It's a thought bubble, like in the comics, but a real one.  It's a warning, an omen.

And tomorrow I'll tell you how this omen affects my shopping quest.  I'm not sure if this is a success story or not, but we can figure that one out together in about twenty-four hours.  For now, it can sit in the cloudy thought bubble and percolate overnight.