September 24, 2024

Yesterday I went to my medical clinic to pick up a prescription. At some point while trying to park, I imagined that I was in my own television show, like “The Truman Show.”

The parking lot is cramped. Arrows point the way, lest creative entering and exiting cause troublesome bottlenecks. I have seen it happen. Drivers go the wrong way, and all hell breaks loose. If a vehicle doesn’t have a tight turning radius, it gets worse.

You’d think it would be simple enough to work it all out with enough patience. But cars keep coming. They keep coming. They just keep coming.

Here comes another one

I don’t know where they come from, but the cars just keep coming. (It’s one reason it took me so long to take a picture that didn’t show an entering car’s license plate or driver.)

It’s only when I show up, though. Has to be. At least it feels that way to me.

Do you think I’m one of thousands, maybe millions, who have had this thought? Isn’t that the point? Wondering if the joke’s on us?

I’m writing this after midnight. It will be daylight when I wake up. I wonder, I do, if some man in the sky will have earlier said:

Cue the sun.”

But seriously, if you think healthcare workers aren’t overworked and underpaid, go to a clinic and watch the cars come and go. They just keep coming. Only, you’ll be just one more car, unless you walk or ride your bike.

This stuff is interesting only to me. Who else considers whether they are the unknowing star of “The Truman Show”? I suppose you could blame it on my rich inner life.