How are you today?

I phoned my dad this morning as I was leaving the house. He asked me, "how are you today?"

"Okay." I said.

"Oh, what's wrong?" he said.

"Nothing, it's just seven in the morning, that's all."

If only that was all.

After I hung up I found myself standing at the bus stop alone. I looked at my watch and it was 7:05. The bus has been all over the map this week because the regular driver is on vacation. Sometimes it is nice and early (on-time, actually, if it arrives at 7:04 or 7:05) and sometimes it is stupid and late (7:07 to 7:09). When it is early, it usually makes me happy because I get a good connection. Except today, when I apparently missed it altogether.

The next bus seemed to arrive about five minutes late. Even the people who regularly take that bus seemed to be looking at their watches and tapping their toes a lot. I had to stand the whole way downtown.

As we were going down Portage Avenue I saw a truck turn onto the street. It was loaded with lumber and plywood and the tailgate was down. I watched as the contents all slid out onto the street. I lurched forward as our bus came to a screeching halt. And then I waited patiently while our bus driver helped the idiot driver load his load back into his truck.

I made a decent connection and finally arrived at my building. As I walked up to the door with a sigh of relief, thinking, "I made it!", I rolled my ankle. I limped in to my office and went straight to Amara's cube to complain. But Amara wasn't there today.

"I have a sympathetic ear," Michael said when he heard my pouting. So I told him the whole story and felt a bit better, if not silly for being so bothered by it all.

Then I turned to my chair and noticed some kind of newspaper item on it. I picked it up and turned it over. It was the Winnipeg Sun TV guide with a very serious looking George Stroumboulopoulos on the cover. Whoever had left it for me also stuck a small post-it by his head and wrote, "Hi Jill I look really serious but it's just because I am thinking of you". I smiled, marking the end of my bad morning, and the start of at least a half-way decent day.

From Random Summer 08

Sometimes I have not-so-fun days at work. Some how though, those are the days when I come back from lunch and find a surprise cupcake, or cookie, or band stickers on my desk from some mysterious donor. It's not always because I've complained loudly, I usually find out later that the treat was a random nice act. There are people I try really hard to win over, there are grumpy people who I sometimes allow to spoil my day, and then there are people who just enjoy me. That will never cease to be humbling or awesome.