This was supposed to be a post about stolen kisses and how much better they can make us feel than the regularly available kind. As usual, it was compelling, beautifully written, and of the utmost importance to humanity.
Until I tried to save it and found that my host’s servers were down.
Again.
And I hadn’t saved my brilliant musings in a text file.
Again.
And, because I’ve been a little scared/lonely/whatever the past couple of days (not enough kisses?), I took it in the kind of stride you’d expect: I broke down in tears of frustration.
Then I went off to make myself some yogurt. And coffee. And eggs.
And somewhere during my kitchen putterings or the long walk back to my desk, it occurred to me how unbelievably lucky I was to be in my apartment on a Thursday morning at 11am, making coffee and eggs and yogurt. That if the worst thing to happen to me today was lousy hosting service, not only was that not too bad, but that I had control over how bad I felt it to be.
So I sat down with my coffee and eggs and wrote about this, instead.
How does that make me feel?
Even better than stolen kisses.
But I’m backing this up in a text file, just in case…
xxx
c
Photo by S@Z via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license
I like the apparent paradox of the cold ambiance of the office in the photo and the warm one describing in words your apartment. By the way, I love the cubist photo.
Best Ricardo
You’re so cool.
You something, man, that post was the “you-est” thing I think I’ve ever seen you write. This was so sweet and just pure.
And, I’m so freakin’ tired that I meant to write: You know something… not You something…
Ricardo – I wasn’t thinking about that paradox, just the transformation of something hateful (ugly office) into something beautiful (piece of art). But, hey, I’ll take it!
Claudia – Thank you. You’re too kind.
Rick – You don’t have to translate for me, man. I *know* you…
Ditto Claudia’s comment. Cool! Rock on, girl!
I have a sometimes stressful job. Once, a coworker anticipated a year fraught with stress. He laughed and said, ‘I bet we’ll need to keep asking ourselves if we’re bleeding.’ It’s a bit dramatic, but its true. When things seem tough, I think of him and wonder: Am I bleeding? Am I in physcial pain?