Hit over the head

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.

One thought on “Hit over the head”

  1. Boy can I relate to this. I am griping about my “trials” on a tropical island and my brother is cutting a fire break hoping his house doesn’t burn down in Colorado. Talk about a smack in the head that I needed. Here’s to you and I bucking up and gaining appreciation…… For soft stuffed animalsmif anything.

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