Eggplant and Mint Green Ribbon

For the first time in sometime now, I've found myself mentally present and completely free on a week night. The only thing distracting me now is my most recent pint of Ben & Jerry's. It sure is refreshing. Being free, I mean. Not the ice cream. The ice cream in fact feels like a shackle of sorts. An addiction. A creamy tether to a portly future in sensible shoes.

I'm free to think about things. Big things as you can see. Lately I've been thinking about eggplant. I have one in my fridge right now. I bought it just to experiment with. I've read about eggplant bacon, drooled over Baba Ganoush, and heard about Ari's sensational eggplant and goat cheese concoction. I just can't decide what to do about my eggplant.

Today I drove a total of 80 miles around town looking for mint green ribbon, three inches thick. I left the office close to 1:00 and though I was to be off work at 4:00, I found myself driving around at 5:30, completely enraged and still looking for mint green ribbon, three inches thick. No one anywhere has mint green ribbon. And when I came close to purchasing a soft sage green ribbon, three inches thick, my boss told me she needed 66 yards of it. Sixty-six yards.
"That's more than half a football field." I told her.
"Yes." she replied, as though most people buy this much ribbon.
"If I buy out the store" I said with confidence, "we'll have twelve feet."

She told me to forget it. Can you believe that? Four and a half hours and 80 miles later, just "forget it." I'd started my afternoon ribbon hunt optimistically, patiently waiting at traffic lights and mulling over my eggplant options, determining that Baba Ganoush might be too large an undertaking for a Monday night. By 2:30 I'd become heated that my thirty-minute errand had still not been completed and that I had made my way into Berkley county though I had tons to do back at the warehouse. "I'll just roast the eggplant." I told myself, feeling impatient and uninterested in creativity. By 4:30 I was blowing my horn at pedestrians and throwing my hands up in disgust at neighboring drivers. "Well you can forget about eggplant tonight!" I told myself, taking out my ribbon rage on my excitement for a culinary treat.

This week we have an inordinate amount of events. The entire company is in a frenzy about it though I can see no real reason for this. Events are quite routine for us after all. But the frenzy has people on edge and snapping at others. This morning I witnessed lots of sharp glances, eye rolling, and walking into rooms to find people whispering about the people in the next office. My calm demeanor has no place in the office this week. As the fifth and least important member of our decor team of five, my especially logical insights and stellar organizational skills are being ignored in favor of an accusatory panic and the slipshod execution of tasks I definitely suggested we start last week when the girls were too busy discussing who looked most like a tramp at the latest sorority formal.

So I'm trying to hang out in the background for now. I prepped my two events last week. I'll let everyone fuss over their events and stand by quietly making flower arrangements and thinking about my eggplant.
I can't let the mint green ribbons of this week get me down.