Morning all. I had strange dreams about rabid gingerbread men last night. They used red laces as lassos and rounded up mice to ride into battle against the drop cookie brigade. Sounds silly but it had a sort of Lord of the Rings Battle feel to it which made if feel less silly. Very odd. Had to share. Now on with the morning prompt, for something hopefully completely different. Fifteen minutes on the timer please and let’s get going.
I really like this. I know it sounds not so nice but I really love starting stories with someone in the middle of the collapse of something. Not certain exactly what collapsed, but I like it.
Wednesday, October 14th: The ice cream melted.
The ice cream melted. That shouldn’t have been what sent me over the edge. I had faced down every crappy thing this day threw at me without a whimper, without even allowing myself to tear up. Yet now looking into the pint of melted ice cream I felt tears start to slide down my cheeks. The slipped down and as soon as I felt them roll down and drip off my chin I felt something inside me crack, break.
I began sobbing.
My knees buckled and I slid to the kitchen floor, still holding the ice cream, the rest of the groceries still on the counter above me as I leaned against the cabinets and cried.
I clutched the container of melted ice cream and let it all go. In truth I didn’t think I could stop if I wanted to. The storm broke and all I could do was ride it out. I stayed sitting on the floor until the tears finally stopped coming. My eyes were red, itchy, salt dried. Even after the tears stopped it took me a while to get my breath back. For the ache in my chest to calm, settle. In the end I think it was the thought of being found on the floor clutching an ice cream container that got me moving.
I couldn’t imagine a more cliched way to face my problems. Sobbing on the floor over ice cream seemed like it belonged to the low point in a rom-com and I knew the problems I faced weren’t going to go away in ninety minutes.
So I forced myself to stand, trying not to spill the container of now completely liquid ice cream. Somehow I managed not to get it all over the floor as I did so. Not having to mop a sticky kitchen floor was my victory for the day. I hiccupped a laugh as I moved to the sink. I poured the contents of the pint container down the sink. I was sure if I put it in the freezer it would harden again. I doubt it would be the same consistency but it would be less wasteful. I honestly didn’t think I ever wanted to see it again even if it refroze perfectly.
Now empty, I rinsed it out and put the container into the trashcan.
“Evidence disposed,” I said.
I hiccupped another laugh. After my crappy workday I had intended the ice cream as a treat. I got through the day without breaking down. I saw someone else claiming my work as their own get the promotion while I was stuck in my position. I was referenced as a valuable member of the team during the announcement of his promotion. Mostly because Troy thought it looked humble and Mr. Harrison, our boss, liked team players.
‘He also likes promoting men,’ I reminded myself. ‘Specifically, men who went to the same schools he attended,’ I thought willing to be fair. Steve was in the same boat I was in regardless of gender because he attended a rival university.
“And we all know Troy is going to do what benefits Troy.”
In truth it was the fact that I could see years stretching ahead where my actions all went to fuel Troy’s career that bothered me the most. It fueled a desire to look for another job. Had that been all I would have been fine. I would have taken the ice cream home and eaten it while updating my resume and looking for a new position. But then the ice cream also wouldn’t have melted as I was delayed in the parking lot and then again on the way home.
The ice cream wouldn’t have melted and neither would I.
