Hi, everyone! I hope you’re well and that you have what you need and that someone in the world is able to find some toilet paper, because I sure can’t! Regardless, I’m grateful to have a job I can do from home, and that my family is healthy and staying safe.
I’m trying to focus on positives. My goal this year is to fill that Positive Jar on the bookshelf in my writing room, no matter how small those positives might be. Although at times it’s not so easy. Like this little episode I had recently. Maybe some of you can relate.
I go out for my daily walk around my neighborhood. I see a folded-up flyer tucked under the flag on my mailbox. All I can read is the word “Power.” Because coronavirus, I decide to leave it for the moment and pick it up when I get the mail on my way home. Bring in mail, put it on the side table by the front door, sort it out, wash my hands.
Still, as I walk, I can’t help but fixate on the content of the flyer. It’s like an itch in my brain I can’t scratch. Of course it must mean that Central Hudson, our electric company, will be pruning trees in the area, which they often do during this time of the year. This must be the same basic notice I received a couple of years ago, that they will be cutting power to our street during a specified period so they can get this work done safely.
I am instantly on alert, flashing red. Intellectually, and with my better self, I know that this is a good service they will be performing. They are cutting back the limbs that could bring down power lines during spring storms. A small sacrifice now for the greater good. I should be grateful that they’re doing this work, and believe me, part of me is. A very small part. Maybe a handful of cells are rowing this boat. Then the other and much larger of my brain takes over. THIS IS THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME TO CUT OUR POWER. I work from home. I need my computer. I need my internet. I need those hours. My husband is also home, and without his modern devices, trust me when I say that he is not a happy man. Then I think of my neighbors. Everyone with their stocked refrigerators and full freezers, their preciously gathered food going bad.
My steps quicken. I want to call the electric company and give them a piece of my mind. By this time, my neck is so tense that my jaw muscles are going numb. My back is tight and there’s a knot in my chest. When my walk is over, I am literally storming toward that mailbox. I pluck out the flyer and open it and read.
It’s for a local business, offering deals on their power washing services.
At the bottom of my driveway, holding that crimped flyer in my hand (that I will be washing the moment I get inside), I start to laugh. At the time, I was laughing at my own leap to the worst conclusion—a trip my mind all too frequently makes. But looking back, I’m grateful that I was able to laugh at something. May there be more moments of laughter in the future.
How are you doing?