Dear, dear Mercury Retrograde....
Yesterday, I laughingly texted a friend, "As frustrating as Mercury Retrograde can be, I'm almost going to miss it when it leaves tomorrow. 'Cause ironically, I get so much good writing done when it's here. And now, I'll have to keep pouring out the words without its push. Hahaha!"
Well, it turns out that the, "Hahaha!" was on me. Because, you know how we have to be careful what we wish for? Well, it's obviously true.
I realized that today when an innocent looking grocery cart suddenly turned on me and grabbed my index finger in between the plastic and the metal, in a vice-like grip. My first thought was of how I used to joke that I wanted to insure my hands with Lloyd's of London. And my second thought was, "Oh, my G-d! I'm a writer, and this is my right hand, and I have some things that I have to finish today...."
Anyway—the cart must've really loved me because it refused to let me go! (And it wasn't like I could run for help with a huge cart clanging and banging down the aisle behind me.) So I did what any woman who was basically strong, basically self-sufficient, and had extremely good manners would do. My eyes found the two tallest men in the fruits and vegetables aisle—and my voice called, "Can you help me? Please??"
Thank you, thank you to the two sweet men who were finally able to pry the cart away from my finger. And to the darling woman who was running for help 'til she saw that I'd, "been released".
So dear Mercury Retrograde. At first, the cynic in me wondered if you just wanted to make a grand exit at the end of this run. But then I realized—I think you were telling me, "Joanie, I'm still here for a few more hours. Go home, and write. I'll push you."
So thank you, thank you to you, as well. For surrounding me with wonderful people who helped make certain that my hand would be fine. And for giving me that push to shake even more writing out of my pen. That push that's like a huge, vibrant gust of wind in my sail.
This one's for you.