Eleven Thirty a.m.

It is eleven thirty
In fifteen minutes my assistant and I have to be at
Preschool
To pick up my assistant’s sister
If we were at home
We would have to leave
We aren’t at home though
We are at the thrift shop
My assistant and I go to the thrift shop once a week
Things have gotten so bad financially
That it is the only place I can afford to
Window shop
But I can’t afford to spend too much time there
Because my assistant, old coffee mugs, thirty year old Christmas decorations, and
Senior citizens
Can only co-exist so long before
Something gets broken
Or someone invades my personal space
So I never budget much time for the thrift shop
Which is why I frequently find myself in the situation in which I find myself now
Standing in the thrift shop parking lot
At eleven thirty
Wondering if it is worth it
To risk being late
For a ten percent chance of buying a ceramic elephant
Or a grab bag of toddler clothes