My cool, calm demeanor is just a masquerade

 Since the mask ordinance came into play, I admit I'm a little twitchy. Seeing people in masks was disconcerting. The thought of wearing one was dismaying...worries about my closeted claustrophobia added yet another layer to my Princess and the Pea anxieties. Brad was already concerned enough about my extreme mania, my odd fixation on needing to know where his car keys were located at all times, my fun new habit of never sleeping, along with the eternal ticking time bomb that would trigger a burst of tears. Let's add trying to bridle up his untamed tiger of a wife and lead her, fighting, screaming, and sobbing into a store to the mix.

So I came up with a clever plan. I would just NEVER leave the house again. I was sure Brad would never notice.

Brad noticed.

"You know," he said, repeating his carefully-crafted list of all the things that would "fix" me, "if you would start sleeping, things wouldn't seem as overwhelming." I nodded. Check. Start sleeping. "And," he continued, "maybe cut back from twelve mini-Peppermint Patties a day to maybe six." Sure. Six. "A little exercise wouldn't hurt," he hinted. Uh-huh...yeah. Although to my credit, I've worn an IMPRESSIVE treaded path from my couch to the fridge. Baby steps.

Sunday is Amy Adventure Day (Brad doesn't know that I call it that.). We drive to Fillmore for fritters and park by a body of water to enjoy them with our coffee. A stream. The Genesee River. Rushford Lake. As we drive, I peer out the window excitedly, gasping for joy when I spot a squirrel, a fox, horses, cows...doesn't matter...it's THE WORLD OUTSIDE!!!

But a new delightful quirk has developed where I now gasp at any sudden vehicular movement or if Brad changes course without narrating his intention. Brad, naturally, finds this little idiosyncrasy of mine adorable. As I was busy panicking because he was backing up the van, Brad also decided to introduce the idea of going to, not just my fritter store, but Dollar General as well. Farewell fritter. There's only so much that a man can take...the next hour had me sitting in the parked (whew) van in my drive-way, crying for an hour while Brad hid in the house, completely at a loss.

He was patiently waiting for me when I managed to return to the house. "Are you ready to try again?" he asked. (No.) I nodded. We drove carefully to Fillmore, Brad narrating the journey and pointing out all the animals for me to enjoy. We decided ONE store was enough for today. That fritter felt like a freaking trophy. We parked at Rushford Lake and enjoyed our treat before walking the dogs. I spotted what looked like a broken piece of pottery under the dock and ducked under to retrieve it. It was a Sentiment Stone and I froze as I read the message:  "You Decide." I felt my chest constrict as I considered this idea. I have never felt more OUT OF CONTROL IN MY LIFE. And I am a flippin' control FREAK!!! I decide...HOW? WHAT?

Safe at home again, I began browsing...okay...maybe NOT a mask...what about a light-weight neck gaiter? Lots of cute ones. With dachshunds. Then I stumbled over the solution to my problem: A stylish bucket hat with a surrounding clear plastic shield guard. I triumphantly showed Brad to show him that I am taking decided measures to get better. He looked doubtful. "If you buy it, you HAVE to wear it," he said. What a silly comment. Why ELSE would I buy it? I was shocked that they weren't sold out! CLICK! Stay tuned, friends...this girl will soon be back "on the market!" (That was a pun that could mean I might successfully be able to grocery shop without immediate therapeutic intervention or Brad would, rightly, say, "That's it!" and file for divorce.")