In two days I'll be starting my 12th year at The Messenger.
In 18 days, I'll be retired.
I've started cleaning out drawers here at work. It's a little like being in my basement, and that's just plain scary.
See, I have a tendency to spread out. OK, knock off the rude remarks - my stuff spreads out to fill any available drawer. Rather like water seeping into every corner of the room once it overflows the bathtub.
Why, yes, I have done that. And that was before I wasn't young anymore. My bathtub was one of those big, clawfoot tubs. Deep. It needed a lot of water. When I turned on the spigots and adjusted the water temperature, there wasn't much else to do but wait.
Sitting on the stool isn't a favorite pastime. That's the stool with the lid down, of course. I hate sitting on the lid. I know it won't fall in or break apart or any of the other awful things my mind insists will happen, but I hate sitting on the stool.
Anyway, I went into the bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed. Then I heard my grandmother's voice saying to never sit on the edge of the mattress because that will break it down, so I laid backward. Well, you know how that goes.
Lying on a bed, even with my legs dangling over the edge, put me right to sleep. Deeply asleep.
With the water running.
This is how you know you've got a guardian angel. Something woke me up, and I immediately remembered the running water, so I hightailed it to the bathroom and stepped inside.
I was living in a downtown upstairs apartment at the time, and the bathroom had about a 3-inch step-down. I was always falling in and stumbling out because my mind could not comprehend that change in depth. This time when I fell in, I splashed. And not the splish-splash, I was taking a bath kind of splash. I sent water splashing up the walls. It was three inches deep and trying to crawl into the hallway.
By the time I got the water turned off and the tub stopper pulled, I didn't need a bath any longer. But by the time I got the three inches of water sopped off the floor and the walls dried down, I had to run another bath. This time I swallowed my fear and sat on the stool to watch the water level in the tub.
I may have taken a quick snooze on the stool, but not a dead sleep, so I was good to go. By that time, however, I was too late to go wherever it was I wanted to go, so I just crawled back in bed - this time with my legs on the mattress - and slept until it was time to get up and go to bed.
That was way before the days of computer solitaire.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Contact Sandy Mickelson at (515) 573-2141 or email@example.com