Happy Friday y’all! An unexpected ‘delivery’ this morning turned my frown upside down and for some reason, I feel that it’s a lesson in perspective worth sharing:
I woke up this morning feeling like crap (I say ‘wake up’, though it’s debatable, as I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink). My throat was sore and my sinuses were so swollen it looked like I had gotten botox. Seemed like I was headed for a rough day.
Two advils and some semi-conscious viewing of Will & Grace later, my delightful boyfriend finally convinced me to get out of bed and leave the apartment for a sunny walk by the ocean with his dog. You wouldn’t think this would be a hard sell (especially for someone with a plane ticket back to Canadian winter in a couple weeks) but, when walking to the bathroom seems like an epic journey, going outside sounds like an expedition fit for Jacques Cousteau. But I knew it would cheer me up, so I quit the rag doll routine and threw on an outfit resembling that of an old witch (or so I was told).
Anyhow, there I was at the park by the ocean, taking advantage of Fido’s every pee break to lie down on a bench and try to up the credit in my sleep bank. My boyfriend warned that I’d be mistaken for a hobo (and an attractive one at that), but I didn’t care. I wanted to lie down and wallow in how horrible I felt, how doomed my productivity was and how this meant that my 4-day gym attendance streak (a record for me) would come to an end. Boohoo.
It was while shuffling hazily between two benches on my circuit of public naps that a sign came down from the heavens. In the form of bird crap. Oh goodie. On top of difficulty breathing and swallowing my morning now includes a special facial. Boyfriend dearest rushed to my side as soon as it happened to get a better shot with his smart phone.
First instinct: Unleash my avian-induced fury and start throwing rocks at the trees and my phone wielding boyfriend.
Chosen course of action: Embrace this generous bird’s delivery as a welcome interruption to my Debbie Downer routine and a reason to laugh. Realise how funny it is that when I head out on a mission to get some fresh air and cheer up, I get fresh droppings from above.
This little incident has me wondering? How many times have I found myself in a bad mood and chosen to interpret an occurrence as the straw that broke the camel’s back instead of the straw that tickled the camel’s funny bone? Why will we only “laugh about this someday”? Why not laugh about it now?