Patience is Painfully Hard Work

What I really want to write about is being strong, being scared, being happy, being distracted, being grateful, being contented, being busy, being troubled, being patient and being silent.

It's been that kind of week.

Starting with me coming over the hill into downtown Seattle on the I-5 corridor at 4:30 in the morning, in the dark, through the mist, rain, and fog, amid a constant stream of red taillights, all of them passing me by, and me doing sixty as though I was crawling -- onto the car stopped dead in the middle of the highway with his tiny flashing red lights lost in the sea of distractions. He was stalled, stopped, not moving and my brakes were screeching.

I know I came within feet of hitting him all the time my brain screaming "he's going to die, he's going to die." I am ashamed to say I didn't stop and help. Shook and trembling, I eased around and continued on while my brain kept screaming "he's going to die, he's going to die."

As other Onlineshoes employees who drive the same route arrived at work they were cussing and pissed at this damn car that was sitting in the middle of the highway. I'm pondering the fact that I deserted him and they were angry at him. On the other hand, I might have saved his life. All the faster cars were busy streaming around me because I was going so old lady slow, and consequently streaming out of the lane with the stopped car.

I called Christian and told him the brake job he did on my car while I was in Oklahoma saved two lives that day. I was grateful for that.

I received a bottle of champagne from the company owner because the company had a million dollars worth of sales on cyberMonday. That made me happy, sort of. He only gave it to the permanent employees, none of the temps received it. Seems rude, they helped on cyberMonday as much as me so that made me feel yucky.

I was busy as I used up all my left over turkey. I gave it away, made soup, and made Turkey Jambalaya. I am patient as I wait for Ian, Roger and Christian to locate Ian a different car. I was troubled by the leak under my kitchen sink. I was happy Roger came over and fixed it at a price I could afford, you know, free. I was sad I didn't see Connor this week. I am happy because I have a great hat to give him when I do see him. I am tired from working overtime, I am grateful for the extra wages. I think it might be a week of regular existence. A mundane, human week. No huge trials and troubles, just below the radar of a bad week. A busy distracted week.

I am contented my kids are okay, my family is okay, my friends are okay, my work is okay, my car is okay, and my prince The Connorman is perfectly okay.

I'm grateful for the delicious serving of my wonderful 42nd Street Cafe Marionberry Conserve that Cathy bought for me when she and Jean visited in October. One of many wonderful treats she bought me and I thought Cathy deserves not one, but two thank yous. Thank you, Thank you.

Dreams, fingernails, gassing up the car, leaving, arriving, finances, pregnancies, measures, holiness, Christmas, intensity -- yep -- it's been that kind of week.

Life isn't always silent.