A Memory. Click, Click, Click.

2 Dec

A couple of weeks ago Robert and I bought an internet booster thing.

There’s a real name for this item, and we had real reason to believe it would work, but that stuff is irrelevant to the story.

We had an internet booster thing.

We procrastinated setting it up, and by the time we realized, no, in fact, this was not going to work, it was 8:45pm on the night we needed to return it.

Staples has a strict 14 day return policy.

We had fifteen minutes to return this internet booster thing within the policy window!

!

Rob tossed me the cord while he ran to put on his shoes.

I left the house in weird camera pajamas and Birkenstocks and soon we were sprinting up the road, laughing into the darkness.

“I’m going to throw up!” I yelled.

“I can’t breathe!”

We huffed and puffed and regretted our poutine from dinner.

We huffed and puffed and regretted that we hadn’t taken care of this earlier.

We laughed and huffed and laughed and puffed and when we arrived at the store three blocks later, they said, um this is a receipt for scrapbook paper?

It all worked out with six minutes to spare.

On the way home, Rob took my hand and we walked leisurely, letting our heart rates return to normal.

As it was happening, the sprinting, the camera pajamas, the yells into the void, I had the distinct thought,

This is a memory.

This moment

right now

a memory.

So here I am, writing it down to save it for later.

Click click click.

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