Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Karma, or what?  

Just another quick one for tonight.

I've actually had four or five separate blog topics in my head over the last week or so, but I'm still trying to find my rhythm and being sleep deprived isn't helping.

Don't get me wrong-- I'm not complaining at all. It's the most wonderful thing in the world to have my son with us again, even if it's for such a short, finite period.

(And yes, the clock has been counting down in my head since the day he got here.)

It's just funny how priorities change. Having a six-year-old in the house, all of a sudden it doesn't seem nearly as urgent to finish the rewrite of the short story I slaved over two weeks ago, and there's always something that's keeping me from finishing off the day’s chores. When he's not around, I'm pretty focused on getting things done and staying on task, but when he's here, the big picture definitely changes and life itself takes on a different flavor.

A good one.

Anyway, one last thing before I crash on the couch (and what today's title was referring to.)

The other day, the wife and I had just had a few minor run-ins with some jerkfaces and endured other assorted unpleasantries that had popped up, and we were both feeling quite rotten and cranky at the end of a long drive. We had both come to the decision that most people are selfish, thoughtless, a-holes when you get right down to it, and mankind is three quarters of the way to Hades in a cozy little wicker carryall.

Of course, immediately after we came to this conclusion…

--A guy at the local Jiffy Lube went out of his way to make sure that we got taken care of when we had come in to ask about a check engine light. We didn't spend a dime in the place and he didn't get anything out of it, he just put more effort than either one of us expected into getting the job done, and was cheerful, to boot.

--A barista at the place where we buy our coffee beans (Dancing Goats blend, the best in the world) informed us that they were no longer going to be carrying it. Before we had even started concocting a plan to burn the place down, she offered to make a special order just for us, and now we’re going to be getting a pound a week. Just like the guy at Jiffy Lube, she got nothing out of it, and was just doing it to be nice.

--As we were pulling up into a jam-packed section of Capitol Hill, the guy whose parking spot we were taking rolled down his window and waved something to us. We started wondering if we were about the victims of some kind of road rage (parking space stalker rage?) when he gave us his paid parking slip on top of letting us take his spot, so we didn't even have to pay for parking. We didn't know the guy, had never seen him before, and he just handed the parking pass over and drove off.

Is this some kind of message, or what?

What next?

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