Last week I came down with a cold. It had danced on the edges for a long time, finally pouncing after that stressful bit at the hospital (Hubs swears I probably caught it there) and knocking me down for the count for a good 3 days.
I tried to write; really, I did, but all that came was a drug induced, garbled mess so instead I spent my time watching old Michael Jackson videos on You Tube and reading about the war of the Gosselins.
By the third day, we were out of food. I don't know how most people feel about this, but it makes me nervous. I hate having empty cupboards, with nothing but a stray can of tuna or possibly some dried beans hanging around. What if there was a disaster? Would we have to ration out every bean, every stray noodle, even down to the things forgotten about in the back that nobody eats? Even though I was still feeling sick, I packed up and went to the store to get some groceries.
I found everything I needed and headed to the cashier, quietly waiting my turn, along with 5 other people. My eyes burned and felt watery. My sinuses were on fire; stuffed to the hilt and making me feel woozy. As I began to unload my cart, a coughing fit took over.
Quick! Relief! Fortunately the candy stand contained some cough drops, which I immediately opened and popped on in my mouth before tossing the rest of the package in with my groceries.
There. Deep breath, and a slight sniffle. Done. I survived. Feeling a bit better, and at least somewhat cheered that I'd made it, I turned to smile at the person who was standing behind me.
Nobody was there. The line had simply vanished.
They had all RUN to the other cash registers.