My mother contacted me on Saturday urging me to overnight her pills. When I got home from picking them up from her house I foolishly brought them inside. I am horrible at remembering to take anything with me when I leave the house if it doesn’t affect me in the hour that follows literally walking out of the door. I rarely forget my phone because it charges in the car. I never forget my coffee because caffeine is the only reason I can live my life. But something that I need at 2pm? It’s as good as not existing. I put it out of my head on Sunday because obviously there aren’t shipping centers in Newark that are open on church day. And even though they were sitting on the mantle in the kitchen I waltzed right past them Monday morning on my merry way to work. That’s not exactly true. I usually don’t Uber Miranda on Monday’s due to her morning classes in Newark, but she decided to skip and ride with me. Not saying that she was the fault that I forgot the pills but it did add an extra element to my morning preparation. Midday was when I finally realized my folly in disappointing my mother yet again. By the time she texted me at 4:45 I had already contemplated whether to lie or tell her the truth for a solid ten minutes of scattered thought. Four chapters of Dracula later I had the gumption to apologize and tell her I would do it first thing this morning. I woke with a pure purpose to overnight her the pills through any means necessary. The entire saga thus far I had not thought of the actual cost of my errand. She had said in her initial text that she would pay me back for whatever costs there would be. Besides how much could it cost? Tops $50 I thought. Leaving the house early I made it to the Fedex Office downtown by 9:35. The employee was kind yet filled me with melancholy with her story of her rescued dog. She drove to Cincinnati to pick it up from the pound and had to spend over an hour gaining its confidence before it even approached her. Any animal story will instantly fill me with sadness and despair about existence and the unfairness of struggle and death. Not the most ideal feeling to confront and dispatch doing errands before work. After I presented the bottle and told her of my shipping needs she instantly said “Oh that will be like 80 bucks.” The idea of a package going from Ohio to Florida in less than 24 hours is definitely a fantastic one. I imagine a team of uniformed men walking briskly with the package under their arms towards a waiting airplane that had to be contracted solely for this mission. If that was the scenario 80 bucks seems more than fair. Also I contemplate that for double the price I myself could probably fly to Tampa this afternoon and deliver the pills and maybe enjoy some time on the beach and a seafood dinner. In that moment at that price point I felt futile. It definitely seemed steep and Miranda and I had the discussion just days before about needing to watch our finances this month. But again what could I do? I completed the transaction and went to my car to give send out two distinctly different texts. To Miranda: That shit was like $87 bucks. To Mom: Your tracking number is #########, it should be delivered tomorrow before noon, it was $83.39. I called Miranda right away and was met with frustration and justifiable anger. Even though Mom said she would pay us back it still makes things tight for the next few weeks. My Mom responded: Wow ok thanks. I started my car and headed to work, feeling like I had just lived the most tumultuous half hour of the week. The clock showed 9:45.

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