Well, I had to take desperate measures and hit myself over the head. I spent yesterday upset with myself for pointing out how someone else should be really happy at a good situation; I knew I shouldn’t remark on it and, yet, I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t not push the send button. I was wrong.
Yes, I know. AmeliaJake wrong . . . how can this be? But sometimes the thing you see in another is what is actually a really big part of yourself. As soon as I made my feelings known, I could see – and could not stop seeing – how very much I do the same. I am always complaining about my situation, never being grateful for the things I have been given . . . and sometimes squandered.
Yesterday, everything seemed to be geared to show me that – not just my conscience. I did business with a man whose wife was just given the diagnosis of mouth cancer with a six-month life-expectancy; she was there and she calmly said she didn’t think she’d worry about it because her liver had failed from the side-effect of pain medication and she’s in her seventh month of life after that . . . but they only thought she’d last four months.
I really needed to hit myself over the head, but, of course, being AmeliaJake, I used a stuffed animal.