A Day in the Life
The other morning I was sitting in my favorite chair in the living room reading a book I bought to read on the plane home from a 5 day trip to San Diego when unexpectedly the doorbell rang. I got up to answer the door and I could see through the glass panel on the side of the door what looked like a policeman. Hmmm.
I opened the door with a friendly “Hello. May I help you?”
One of the two patrolmen looked a little startled and asked if I am Pili Meyer. He almost pronounced Pili correctly.
I agreed that I am, in fact, said person and asked what was up. “Well,” he says while glancing at his partner, “we were asked to do a wellness check on you.”
“Who on earth requested that?” This really surprised me that someone thought I was in danger. Or something. Probably the ‘or something’.
“I’m not supposed to tell you that but in this case it’s ok,” the surprised patrolman said. “It was Safeway. They called and said they hadn’t seen you in four days and wanted us to make sure you are ok.”
Holy Grocery Shopping! You’ve got to be kidding. I was both dumbfounded and embarrassed. The first reaction to this was that I go to Safeway altogether too often. Four days pass without me crossing the threshold and the manager thinks I must have fallen and can’t get up. Or something. There’s a whole lot of ‘or something’ in this little vignette.
The policeman asked if they could come in and look around. You know what crossed my mind then, don’t you? I hadn’t tidied up the kitchen or bathroom yet that morning and I really didn’t want strangers walking through those rooms. Any room besides the living room, as a matter of fact, and that one wasn’t too neat either.
As you can imagine, I really couldn’t refuse them entrance or that would have made them more suspicious. I invited them into the living room and asked them to sit and offered coffee. They accepted the offer and by the time they finished their coffee they were ready to leave. Nothing suspicious here except my housekeeping skills.
Dave walked in towards the end. He’d been in the basement and he was surprised by the visitors, but his demeanor banished all suspicion. And the policemen soon left.
I found a little gem buried in this encounter. Sure, it’s nice to know people notice if your behavior
I found a little gem buried in this encounter. Sure, it’s nice to know people notice if your behavior changes and you are essentially missing from daily life. The police handled it well. They were calm and polite and observant. All the same I had a hard time making peace with the result of my many very frequent trips to the store.
That gem is a shopping list. Yup, I sat right down at my computer and made up a new Shopping Document. It has columns according to categories of food and grocery store stuff and lists the items I commonly and sometimes uncommonly purchase. Now I just have to check the box next to the entry of the day. Of course, because all my regular purchases are on the list, I am reminded that I need to get a carton of that or a box of this or a bag of something else. Use of the list provides much more efficient shopping and far better use of time than going to the store every other day.
This adventure has also encouraged me to be more intentional about a lot of other activities in my life. I won’t bore you with any of these other gems, but now I have another issue to deal with. I’ve become smug because I’m so much better with my time management. Or something.
But let’s be really clear. While the behavior of all too frequent trips to the store is historically accurate, and the manager at the store is a kind and great guy, and I’ve never had an encounter with the local police that was anything but polite, there was no actual wellness check ordered or carried out. That was a flight of fancy to illustrate the point about how ineffectual disorganized use of time can be and how easy it is to change. Or something.
The custom designed shopping list is real, though, and I really do love it. However, I’m working hard on that smug issue which actually showed up with the shopping list. Well, maybe not that hard.