What Happens When You Stop Avoiding Everything by Reading in Bed: A Third Person Narrative

This is a Part II from the previous post.

When you decide to stop reading Jayne Anne Phillip's new novel and get out of bed and go to CVS to pick up the wipes that you still need to buy for another eighteen years, you pull into a parking space and open your door at the exact moment a Prius, that stealth vehicle, cuts into your space and pulls up beside you and your door hits its right mirror and rips it off and flings it backward and you scream and a woman jumps out and asks to see your car and then asks for your insurance info and the whole time her face is utterly impassive. She is wearing turquoise shoes and a pink polka-dotted skirt. Your door is ripped up and so is her car. It's impossible to know whether she thinks it's her fault, and you know that it is her fault, but you don't want to upset her because for all you know she could be venturing out for the first time in the day, having spent the better part of it already reading in her pajamas and avoiding everything so you exchange insurance information and you go inside to buy the wipes.

You are shaky and bummed and realize that you should have stayed in bed and finished up Jayne Anne Philip's new novel and used the wipes in the earthquake kit. ***












***Unless there's an earthquake in less than 24 hours and then you'll be glad that you got those wipes but disappointed because you won't be able to get the medical marijuana tincture for Sophie.

Reading in Bed

via The Improvised Life

1. Don't answer the phone, even when you know who's calling.
2. Keep reading Jayne Anne Philip's new novel in your pajamas and Expressing Motherhood sweatshirt in bed despite the phone ringing and the emails pinging.
3. Change the soaked bed-sheets again but only curse about it in your head.
4. Believe that since you were awake most of the night because your daughter was awake and then had to drive your son to his godforsaken school in the valley and then had to drop your other son off and then had to race home to dress and brush your daughter's hair because The Husband is incapable of that (and only that) part of her caregiving and then strip the soaked bed-sheets, it's all right to be reading Jayne Anne Philip's new novel in your pajamas and Expressing Motherhood sweatshirt in bed.
5. Don't go to the grocery store, again, despite there being no bread, eggs or milk (except for one gallon of raw milk that has mysteriously appeared there, probably placed there by The Husband who has Swiss tendencies to ignore American fears of bacteria and death by food poisoning) in the fridge. 
6. Don't go to Target for a few necessary items, including wipes because that's an item that you'll be using for at least another eighteen years and you can probably rummage up a pack in the earthquake survival kit.
7. Download another book on the Kindle that you might not get to for months.
8. Keep reading Jayne Anne Philip's new novel in your pajamas and Expressing Motherhood sweatshirt in bed despite all of the above.

Reader, tell me how irresponsible you can be.