Only because it ended well, I’m going to try to get through this without complaining too much about what a lousy day it was. Or could have been, if it hadn’t ended well.

The worst part is that I was up before 8:00 am, and that’s way too early for me (voluntarily, anyway). Not just up, but up and showered and dressed. (Not shaved, though. I wasn’t going to shave just to stay home all day and wait for the phone repair guy.) They couldn’t give me a four-hour appointment, so after waiting five days for my phone line to be fixed, I had the prospect of waiting twelve more hours today.

And it seemed it was going to take that long. I was up on the step stool looking out the window many, many times today, even though I can’t see anything. I can’t see the street or most of my driveway. What I can see is the top of the telephone pole, and there was nobody on it. Every time my phone rang I was convinced it would be the phone company, telling me they were on their way. Or telling me they had postponed my repair until tomorrow. I was about 50/50 on that.

At 5:00 pm, I had almost given up, but I happened to glance out the window and saw the repair truck parked in my driveway. He couldn’t have been there long, because I’d been out there for my mail, and it had been such a beautiful day that I’d had the door open until just before then. In fact, I was out in the garden several times today, just to enjoy the fresh air. But never so far from the door that I couldn’t have heard the phone ring.

When I spotted the truck, I opened the door and hunted down my shoes, but before I could get them on, I heard the truck’s engine start. Just like that he was gone, without a word. I waited some more. I looked out the window and stared at the top of the pole. I took the cordless phone and walked as far down the driveway as I thought the signal would reach, but I couldn’t see the truck or the guy or anything hopeful.

Shortly, though, I heard the fax machine buzz, so I knew I finally had a live line. The repair guy called on my voice line and told me he’d taken care of my problem.

Maybe 5:00 pm is a motivating factor. Maybe it was time for him to clock out and head home to the wife and kids, or out to the bar to watch the game, or to the ballet to dance like a swan. Or maybe he just gets paid by the job and not by the hour, because somehow he had my problem solved in a flash. It just took five long days for the flasher to flash, that’s all.