Slugged with insight.
I went to H-E-B last night at 1:30 a.m. I needed to get tomatoes for a tuna salad I was making for lunch the next day (don't ask, I was just bored). An hour quickly passed in the circuitous lanes of H-E-B and I ended up leaving with a little more than just tomatoes. I think it was around eight bags or so of groceries.Getting back to the house I remembered that I had to park on the neighbor's curb, because our house really doesn't have one (just a gutter opening) and because our lot is taken up by three cars already, all of which leave earlier than me in the morning.
Seeing as how it was 2:45 in the morning, I was determined to make it to the front door in one trip. I hate making second trips. I will fill every inch of space on my arm, even if it means cutting off my circulation or permanent bruising, just to make it in one trip. That's just the way I am. Something in me just prefers taking one-almost unbearable-huge load that lots of little bearable ones. I thought to myself, "Okay Becca, it's freakishly scary outside so you can do this. If you stack six bags on the right arm, and two on the left, that leaves your left hand free to open the door."
So as I started my little endeavor to the front door, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Just five steps from the car, the bag carrying the three-liter cokes broke. "Crap," I muffled to myself. I had to set all the bags down to scurry after the two three-liters I dropped, and in vain mind you, because I lost one to the gutter anyway. After restacking my arms appropriately I cut through the neighbor's lawn and into mine as a short cut to the door.
I was glad to see I was nearly to the stepping stones of my house, because the marsy lawn had wet the hems of my pants (I guess the neighbors sprinklers had gone off while I was at the store, because I didn't remember it raining). Upon taking the first stepping stone though, since the soles of my shoes were well lubricated by now, I lost my step somehow and slipped just enough to sprain my ankle. "Oh, brother! Come on!" Pain. Pain. Lots of pain. And the bags were really cutting into my skin at this point.
I plodded wearily the rest of the way. But one last thing was destined to piss-me-off, I could feel it. Probably due to a combination of frustration, pain, light-headedness, fatigued-arms, nervousness, anxiousness, and impatience...the frickin key would not go in right. I twisted. I turned. I pushed. I pulled. I forced. I swayed. I think I even prayed for God to open the blasted door. All the while, still holding all eight bags of groceries. The keys fell to the ground, but not before piercing my toes. I was about to throw the bags to the ground in my anger, when a slimy trail, where the keys had fallen by my toes, caught my eye.
I followed the mucus-based trail with my eyes just a few inches behind me where they subsequently met with an enormous slug. It's rudimentary shell was in desperate need of upgrading. It looked more like a pimple against the amoeboid-body-like mass. And I most certainly would have smashed it had I thrown down the heavy grocery bags. It looked like it was having enough trouble on it's own without me smashing it to smithereens.
Although the slimy trail was a few inches behind me when I spotted it, the origin was far off the porch out of sight. The slug seemed to be crawling away as fast as it could from some super-ants following close behind it. The ants were picking up speed, but the only thing the slug was picking up was dirt grains. A sense of compassion came over me like nothing I've ever felt. I picked it up, hastily flicking at an ant that had already started feasting on it, and moved it to where I thought was safe. The super-ants from behind just scattered, as though disoriented and perplexed.
I finished the tuna salad and put away the groceries, never devoting a single thought to the obstacles on my way to the front door, only thinking about the slug...wondering if it were still safe. There's no point to the story, other than coming to the realization that I liked saving the slug. And how a simple quest to complete a tuna salad could lead to such insight. I slept well that night.
posted by Becca @ 5:26 PM
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