Early Thanksgiving

It looked like it was going to be the Sunday from hell: three screaming children, irritated and cranky customers and lines five people deep at each register. I had only gotten to work a half an hour before and already, I wanted to go home.

Then I noticed someone sitting in a motorized shopping cart. The customer looked female and her hair, short and blonde. I stopped and stared. She was also wearing a black jacket. No way, I thought. There's no way it can be her. Can it? I leaned over and took another look. My jaw fell open in shock.

It was Sharon.

I nearly dropped an S-bomb right then and there. I had heard that Sharon had gotten out of the hospital and that she had gone home but beyond that, I knew nothing. Now, here she was, looking a bit thinner than she was in August but otherwise all right.

I needed a moment, as I wanted to start crying. It had been touch and go for a while back in August.

Sharon came over and hugged me. Again, I was about to burst into tears but I was just so glad to see her. She can walk unassisted for short distances and she's admitted her taste in food has changed but she's better. She's a lot better. Which is a huge load off of the rest of us on the front end. To say we're glad is putting it very mildly.

As for Justine: she's undergoing yet another competency evaluation. This is her third, if I recall correctly. The prosecution thinks that she may be faking her mental illness, but others aren't so sure. Supposedly though, Justine has been telling people that she'll be home by Thanksgiving.

I hate to break it to her, but I seriously doubt that it'll happen.

--Weasel, "It'll be a good Thanksgiving this year, no matter who says what."