This is it, I thought. I am going to be blind for the rest of my life. And when people ask me how it happened, I’m going to have to tell them the sad, embarrassing truth: I was just trying to smell the hot sauces.
It was the end of a day that had felt interminable. Early that morning I’d rolled out of my bed in Winooski and into my car, driven to Middlebury for an appointment and then spent hours fielding calls and emails about the Daysies results.
Late in the afternoon, I could feel a sore throat coming on, so I took a 20-minute power nap in the backseat of my car before driving over the mountains to Plainfield. I reviewed Lark Upson’s portrait exhibit at Blinking Light Gallery, then dashed to Montpelier to catch Lost Nation Theater‘s production of My Buddy Bill.
My heart sank when my husband, who had joined me for the play, informed me that there was no time for dinner. The show, which I had thought started at 8, actually began at 7.
I inhaled a cider donut in the City Hall Auditorium lobby and giggled woozily through the one-man show starring Ethan Bowen about Bill Clinton and his chocolate Lab, Buddy.
By 8:30, the show was over, and Daniel and I dashed to the Mad Taco, which shimmered like a promised land across the street.
Related Stories
Got something to say?
Send a letter to the editor and we'll publish your feedback in print!
