So, tonight, I had two errands : buy a money order at Money Mart, and get my prescriptions filled. Simple, right?

Well, I am telling you about it, so you know the answer to that question is “heck no”.

When I got to Money Mart, I was third in line. Ahead of me was a fresh faced young Asian man, and ahead of him was a small pack of Spanish speaking people.

That doesn’t sound like a lot. But it turned out that the Spanish speaking people, via the clear patriarch, were making a major bank’s overnight business in transactions.

So I get there at 6:30 pm or so, and it’s a provincial holiday here in BC today, so Money Mart closes at 7 instead of their usual 9. Ergo and therefore, there’s only half an hour left in which to get my money order.

But there’s only two people ahead of me! Yay! Um…. nay.

While waiting, I noticed there are stages to the psychology of waiting a long time in line.

Stage 1 : When you get there, you say to yourself “This won’t take long. ”
Stage 2 : You slip into Waiting In Line Mode, where your brain unfocuses into a sort of neutral nothingness, just leaving enough consciousness active to notice when the person in front of you moves ahead so you can move ahead too.
Stage 3 : Your supply of WILM is running out, and you are beginning to get annoyed. But you are fighting it, telling yourself to just be patient, the time will come, and so on.
Stage 4 : Fuck that, the walls are down, the battle is lost, and you are just plain pissed off now. Anything that the person serving the line (cashier, bank teller, etc) that seems even a tiny slower than needed makes you flare up with inner rage. The rest of the time, you seethe.

Now luckily, I am not one to take out my anger on others and I knew that the one gal working at Money Mart tonight was having a worse night than I was, so I didn’t bitch at her or anything. That would have been totally uncool.

However, I was prepared to let her have it if I got to the front of the line and she said “I’m sorry, it’s after 7 pm and we’re closed.” Then I would have let her have it and to hell if it was right or not.

That did not come to pass, though. She did what any good retail worker does, and locked the door to the business when closing time came, but continued to serve the customers still waiting.

So I bought my money order for $45 (which cost $51) and I can now pay for my bus pass via mail. So yay for that.

When I finally left, it was 7:10 PM. And as a testament to how tense I had become, when I left I had this enormous sensation of relief. Free at last, lord almighty, free at last.

Of course, after the relief comes the cooldown, where I feel fragile and twitchy because, presumably, my body is bouncing back from an adrenal response and not balanced yet.

So then we went to Shopper’s Drug Mart, because my for-now usual pharmacist closes at 6 pm on a weekday. I handed over my prescriptions and helped out with the translation from Doctor Scribble to human language, and the pharmacist said it would be 25 minutes or so.

I looked at Joe and Julian, and said “How about McDonald’s?” I hadn’t had supper yet and at least half my fragile state was directly attributable to low blood sugar.

They were amenable, so we went to McD’s and I got to eat my Big Mac and enjoy stimulating intellectual conversation and even get a little caffeine into my blood, and all three of those combined to calm me way down.

I don’t feel like I am flying level just yet, but at least there’s no turbulence.

After our tasty and affordable repast, we went back to Shopper’s, I picked up my psych meds (yay for being less crazy via chemistry) and we came home.

And then…. I began to blog!

One factor that must be added to the equation of my stressed out frustration at Money Mart is that I am a very fat man and when very fat men stand for an extended period of time, our feet swell up and start to hurt like a big bad bitch. So all the time I was waiting, I was in an ever intensifying amount of pain.

If I had been able to sit down, like if they had a take a number and wait for it to be called system, everything would have been fine. I am by nature a fairly patient person… when I am comfortable. If I had been able to sit, the worst that would have happened is that I would have gotten a little nervous when closing time was approaching.

But as it was, I had foot pain stoking the fires of stress and so, for me, it was kind of torture.

So now, here I am, safe at home, telling you nice people about my evening and thus taking the information of my emotions and experiences and transmitting it to you.

That’s why, as Spider Robinson says, “Shared pain is lessened. Shared joy is multiplied. ”

What else… well I was going to write some more “mother and the machine” stuff tonight, but I don’t have the energy to go soul spelunking right now.

In summary, I have decided that I will always be a calculating person. Someone who sees the world as a chess game and is always looking for the right move.

That sounds awful, and it is true that modern society is not kind to calculating people. Just that fact that calculating is a pejorative is a clear indication of that.

The hero is never “calculating”.

But my goals and desires are caring and compassionate. I am no cold blooded sociopath. I want what is best for everyone, and those are the sort of moves I try to make.

It’s like I’m your robot grandmother a la “I Sing The Body Electric”, the short story by Ray Bradbury.

No wonder I have always loved that story. It’s me!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.