Soup

I am finally getting over my sinus infection and bad cough. I’m not so sure anymore that the cough was related to the sinus infection, and now I’m afraid I might have gone to work contagious and infected many innocent people. But how could I know? I’m sick so much now I don’t know where one thing stops and another begins.

Not only did I go to work sick, I had to work more than my 40 hour week because so many other people were sick. So I felt totally justified one day in stopping for soup on the way to my one-person library, even though I don’t get lunch breaks at that library and I was planning on eating the soup as soon as I got to work. (Very daring, I know.)

I stopped at a little cafe where I had once had the best chicken soup I had ever tasted. I knew it would cure me and keep me going until the library closed at 7pm. But when I asked what kind of soup she had today, the woman said, “No soup. No more soup. I’m not making soup any more.”

“No soup?”

“Last week I had to throw away a whole kettle of soup. Not one person ordered soup that day. It all went in the garbage. It broke my heart.”

“Well, we had that unseasonably warm weather last week. . .”

“And they were all wearing their shorts, and their tank tops. Like they thought winter was over. I put my heart and soul into my soup, and not one person ordered it.”

“It’s very good soup. I love your soup. I was really looking forward to some soup.”

“It broke my heart. I can’t go through that again. And it was twenty bucks down the drain. No more.”

So I ordered a tuna sandwich, which doesn’t have the same healing properties as chicken soup but it did get me through the next 8 hours okay. I can’t believe she’ll never make soup again, but I’ve been a little afraid to go back in there and ask.

No walk for me today, because there’s a nasty cold wind even though the sun is shining.

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