Turn Left, Turn Right

On my day off today I went to pick up the first of the fundraising calendars for a group I belong to.  The printer we're using is just two miles away from to the mall where I work, and it would have been nice to take care of it yesterday after my shift.  However, you can't do it until the printer says they're ready, so today it was.

After taking care of my morning commitments and meeting Hubby Tony for lunch, I got on the Interstate, drove east, and exited at the same place I always do.  However, at the bottom of the ramp instead of turning left to go to the mall I turned right.  I felt like I was playing hooky--instead of the business casual clothes I wear to work, I had on jeans, tennis shoes, and no makeup.  The skies were predominantly gray, but there were a few patches of sunshine peeking through.  Traffic moved smoothly.  I made every stop light.  There was a series of great songs on the radio, and I sang along as I drove.

At the printers I picked up two boxes of calendars; the group has a meeting tomorrow, and I wanted to have some to distribute.  Next, I drove to a nearby grocery store to get some meat from dinner.  When I was deciding which pork roast to buy my phone buzzed, indicating I had a text.

It was from my boss.  Because of a scheduling snafu the person who was supposed to be there at noon hadn't shown up.  Was I available to come in?  I called his phone, got the voice mail, and told him to call me.  Ten seconds later the call came in.  He repeated his request.

I explained I'd just bought meat that needed to be cooked, so I'd have to decline.  After I hung up, though, I started feeling guilty.  Without backup, he'd be working more than eight hours by himself, with no way to leave the Customer Service desk for lunch or a break.  What if the tables were turned, and I was stuck there?   Besides, it never hurts to beef up the good boss karma.  As I was mulling my decision over, another text came in, this time sent to the entire staff.  Anyone who could get there by 2:00 (effectively working four hours) would be paid for the entire six hour shift.  After a little more thought I decided to save the cooking for the weekend.  I sent a text back to the boss and told him I'd do it.

I drove home, quickly changed my clothes and fed the cats, and retraced my route back towards the mall.  This time, though, the skies were dreary and a sporadic drizzle fell.  I got stuck behind  one slow car after another, and there was nothing good on the radio.  When I got off the highway, I automatically got in the left turn lane and turned towards the mall.  Just like a normal day.