I knew the date was coming. For two years, I was aware of the day. It caused no small amount of worry, pondering, and contemplating. This was going to be a difficult day. But it was two years away so I could put it to the back of my mind.
Then it was one year away. But one year was still far enough away I continued to push the thought away.
Then it was one month. Okay, I could still push it away but only after I thought about it for a bit.
Then it was one week. I thought about it and started playing out different scenarios in my head. What I would say. How I would respond to different questions.
Then it was one day. Oh dear.
Then the day came.
But it was okay because I had two years to prepare.
First, I showed up to the task early. Very early. Before anyone else early.
Second, I took the book (my summer project) that I was reading with me. It was a nonfiction book about an area not too far from home. My interest in it stemmed from the fact my mom’s ancestors lived in the area at one time. It was my attempt at family history research.
It may not seem like much of a plan but it worked. Since I showed up first I was the first in line when the task came. My book worked as a sufficient distraction and conversation topic. We discussed the particulars of the book so much there was no time for small talk. No pesky questions such as “how are you doing?” or “What are you up to these days?” None of my dramatic scenarios I had thought about came to pass. We finished up within a few minutes and I got what I needed.
In short, the day I dreaded for two years was quite uneventful.
Now, to start worrying about the next appointment in another two years.