Forgot To Buy Soap (Distracted By Fantasy)

I went shopping yesterday and I forgot to buy soap.

When I showered this morning I took the thin, flat sliver of soap that remained in my soap dish and broke it into thirds, stacked them on top of each other and then squished them in my fist. I shaped the scrunched up soap into a rough rectangle.

It looked like one of those little ornamental pieces of soap you get when you stay at a cool hotel.

The little art-work soap I made got me showered this morning, but now there isn’t much left at all. Today I have to remember to stop at Walgreen’s for a three-pack of Coast.


When I went grocery shopping yesterday I was a little distracted because I knew that on the way home I would be stopping at an office supply store to make one of my fantasies come true.

Not a big fantasy. I have little fantasies and big fantasies.

Yesterday I made a little fantasy come true.


On the way home from grocery shopping—on the way home from forgetting to buy soap—I stopped at Office Depot. I didn’t buy a Flair pen. And I didn’t buy a couple of cool colors of Flair pen.

I bought the package of twelve Flair pens that costs like fifteen dollars.

It’s the full spectrum of Flair colors, from light and dark red-purple to light and dark blue-violet.

I don’t use Flair pens all that much, but I enjoy knowing they’re there if I ever do have a use for them. And I enjoy having the full set. Normally I’m so short of cash that I think twice about buying even one Flair pen. It was cool to get the twelve set.


Little fantasy.


(It’s a little fantasy that’s tinged with sadness. There are actually sixteen Flair colors but no stores around here sell the complete set of sixteen. The sixteen are: pink, black, blue, red, green, purple, magenta, plum, lime, marigold, navy, yellow, olive, tangerine, lilac and sky blue. They don’t print the colors on the pens, but I believe I am missing olive, marigold, navy and plum. I’m not sure I could see the difference between magenta and plum, but I suspect I’m missing one of those.)


I have big fantasies, too.


But big fantasies are harder to make come true than little fantasies because big fantasies are not just an issue of getting enough money or setting aside enough time. Big fantasies always involve stuff that’s outside of your own control.

Stuff that’s in the lap of the Gods.


My three big fantasies are:


1—I’d like to get published for money. I’ve done my part. I’ve written lots of manuscripts, I keep them at market and I keep writing more. I’ve done my part, the rest is in the lap of the Gods.


2—I’d like to win the lottery. I’ve done my part. I’ve written lots of little computer programs to familiarize myself with the statistics and probability of the drawings. I pick reasonable numbers and I don’t over-do it by wasting too much money. I’ve done my part, the rest is in the lap of the Gods.


3—I’d like to take a girl up to Evanston for a quiet weekend get-away. I’ve done my part. I can afford the trip. My life doesn’t have a lot of baggage that would prevent me from getting away. Now I’ve just got to meet the right girl. I’ve done my part, the rest is in the lap of the Gods.


The little fantasies are getting done, one by one. I’m checking them off the list. And now I can make the check marks in twelve cool colors!

The big fantasies are out of my hands.

They’re in the lap of the Gods.