The notebook

I was right in the middle of watching a spooky movie called An American Haunting when my cable reception just went out. I checked several other stations and they were all out. I called the cable company and they said they hadn't received any news of an outage in my area and that it will probably be morning before they can get the problem fixed. That sucks. Just last week we had a cable outage that lasted from about 6pm to around 5 o'clock the next morning. That time the cable company told me that there had been a car accident somewhere that caused the outage for about six different counties.

Ordinary Janet posed a question on her blog and I started to leave her a comment but then was afraid I'd get long-winded so I decided to change my comment into a blog post. She writes about the differences between blogs and journals. She also asked readers if they had ever kept a journal and had someone read it. It made me remember an incident that happened many years ago.

Most of my life I kept a journal, although I always called it a diary. I guess when you are a grown-up you are supposed to call it a journal so I better get with the program. Heh. I haven't written in my old "journal" since the year my daughter was a senior in high school. I'm not sure why I stopped. Hmm...now that I think about it. I got my first computer the same year that she was a senior and I discovered the fascinating world of The Internet. That first year and a half I would have to say that I was an internet addict. So that may be part of the reason I stopped writing in my diary...I mean journal.

Anyway, back to the incident. Back when it happened I counted it as one of my most embarrassing moments but enough years have passed that I'm over it finally. When I was about 25 years old and living through my separation and then divorce, it was a very hard time for me. Emotionally and physically. I was plagued by terrible headaches right after my divorce. I had those horrible headaches for about two years. The doctor told me they were tension headaches or muscle contraction headaches. Stress related. Along with the headaches I had panic attacks too. Those started right after the divorce too. Frankly, I was a mess.

I had a notebook that I used to jot down grocery lists or bills that were due. Some of the pages even had little drawings on them that my little girl had scribbled. It was not my diary. (I had a Hallmark hard-covered diary book that I used for writing down my thoughts and feelings.) For some reason that I can't remember one day I wrote out a couple despairing "oh woe is me" paragraphs on one of the blank pages at the back of the notebook. It was something about my headaches, panic attacks and trying to lose some weight. I laugh about this now but I think there were even some tear stains on the page.

Several weeks later I was at the local grocery store in my very small town. I don't know why on earth I took that notebook into the store with me but I did. I probably had a recipe written down in it and brought it along to decide which ingredients I needed to buy. I bought my groceries and left the store. About a week later I went back to the same store and one of the cashiers saw me and told me that the store manager had been hoping I would come in soon because he had something of mine. I had no idea what it could be and judging by the uncomfortable look on her face, I was a little worried about what it was! I hadn't even missed my notebook yet and had no idea that I had even left it in the grocery cart.

The cashier called out loudly to the manager who was in his little cubicle office nearby and told him I was there. He came out and handed me my notebook. I saw it and smiled and thanked him. I told him, "wow I didn't even realize I had left it anywhere...thanks!" I remember wondering why he had an odd almost embarrassed or sympathetic look on his face. I hadn't even remembered writing that little ditty in the notebook...yet!

I took the notebook and walked with my cart to the rest of the store to shop. When I got a few aisles away from the cashier and manager, I stopped and flipped through the pages of the notebook. I saw that page at the back of the notebook where I had bared my soul and I just about died of embarrassment! I couldn't get out of that store fast enough.

Would you believe, I couldn't get myself to step foot inside that store again for about five years? To this day whenever I have ever seen that store manager, that stupid notebook comes to my mind too.

Another funny story about that store and the manager and my Dad. Back in the early 70's my family lived about two and a half blocks from that store. One summer weekend we had relatives visiting us from northern Indiana. One of those mornings my mother started to prepare a nice breakfast for everyone when she discovered she was out of bread. She asked Dad to run up to the store and get a couple loaves. When Dad arrived at the store it was about ten minutes before the store officially opened. The Wonder bread man had already arrived and a tall metal cart stocked with bread and rolls and such was sitting right outside the store. As Dad walked up, the manager came out of the store preparing to take the cart inside. My Dad pulled out a dollar and told him something like "oh great...that is just what I came for. I just need a couple loaves of bread...here is a dollar and you can just keep the change and I'll get on home. Okay?" The manager looked stiffly at Dad and told him that the store was not open for business yet and he'd have to wait. I think Dad emphasized that he didn't need anything but some of that bread that was inches away from him and he could keep the change...no problem! It was a problem for the manager though and he shook his head no and told Dad he'd have to wait another ten minutes when the store was open. My Dad was so miffed about that. He calmly told him he wouldn't be back ever. Dad held that grudge and never again went into that store himself. Oh he'd sometimes drive Mom to the store and wait in the car but he himself has never gone inside.

My mother has teased and cajoled Dad about his grudge over the bread for years now. Back when my embarrassing notebook thing happened, I remember one time Mom had asked Dad to please go to the store for something and he said he'd go to the store but he'd have to drive seven miles to the next town's store. Oh yes...your silly grudge she remembered. I happened to walk in during this conversation and she asked me if I would run up to the store for her. (I'd already told her in the past about my notebook fiasco) I told her I don't go to that store but I'll drive over to the next town and get what she wanted. Mom just threw her hands up and said "Good grief....you two and that store!"

That same manager of the store is still working there after all these years. I got over my embarrassment finally and I go there now but as far as I know, my Dad still won't go in there. He says he's a man of his word...he told him he wouldn't be back and by golly he won't be back!