Writing Prompt-Where Are You Now

In an effort to keep writing I decided to follow a writing prompt. This writing prompt is

"What time is it? What would you usually be doing? How would it be different if you were in a different place but at the same time?"

I know this is not the fruits of the muse but this is also a random blog in the lonely sandbar of the Internet. These are fiction pieces so buckle up because that was never my strong suit albeit I dreamed of it. I'm more of a personal essay guy with maybe a quirky work memo or bathroom graffiti in the quiver.

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My cousin shared with me a meme about Ohio. It went like this:

In Ohio we have nine seasons

1) Winter
2) 3 Day Spring
3) Fake Summer
4) Construction Season
5) Face Melting Summer
6) False Fall
7) Second Summer
8) Real Fall
9) Early Winter

Then over the 7 there is a little star that reads, "You are Are"

I gave it a like when I saw it on the Facebook feed. I have not see her since a weekend back in HS when we visited her family when my uncle, her father, suddenly passed. That was 20 years ago but she popped up every day with some meme or blessing. I showed the seasons one to Ricardo in the smaller truck this morning before we left the yard. "Hey, check this out"
"Oh, Ive seen that except its for Minnesota."
"Oh...you have family in Minnesota?"
"Yeah! They moved there after the hurricane back home. Work at Mayo Clinic. Facility services, the whole family. 2 shifts back to back."

And maybe its because of the meme but it does feel unusually hot. Could it be that powerful? At one of the schools I deliver the secretary has a printed cartoon meme by her desk. And she told me, once when I pointed it out, "I love them. They are little ideas that get in your head. That is what they mean. Little ideas. Like viruses."

It is late September and usually the water route would be slowing down but this week it has been busier. Feeling it not just in my arms but in also the heave of the truck as the full bottles sway forward in their bays. When I leave the depot and pull onto Wakinmer Avenue I tap the brakes slowly and ease into the stop with all the inertia at my back. Each of the 100 jugs sloshing and glugging to every beat on the street and every footstep up back steps.
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Ugh, this is where I stopped because I realized I wanted to start talking about fluid dynamics which sounds so lovely (Fluid Dynamics! It can be raunchy or clever or just a great name for a bar. Or a boat.) but I know nothing about it.