Musings from the Laundromat: Stay Grateful Pony Boy edition
Me: “Good morning!”
Laundry lady: “Good morning – coffee is already made!”
Me: “Aw! Thank you! You’re a lamb!”
It’s been a long weekend. Getting up early Saturday to let a contractor in, then 2 plus hours of power tools, barking and hammering. End result was great though – I no longer feel like I’m showering in a dilapidated Bates Motel room.
Then came the continuation of ‘The Purge’.
Going through my boxes – my plethora of boxes to make room for new boxes belonging to my fiance.
Would be so great just to pull something out and in a millisecond decide “Donate, Toss or Keep” – but when it comes to cards (I’ve kept every single card I’ve received) or photos – there is no getting around actually opening and looking at them.
By late last night I had decided maybe I need to use the ‘if there was a fire, what would I wish had survived it’ method. But there are too many memories for that.
I did find out on Saturday that my son has been paying attention to me all these years though.
We went grocery shopping – a big shopping trip this time. Out of most everything as I’ve been lackadaisical in the supply department.
I was starving. And on the way back, decided to pull into Taco Bell for some nachos.
Me: “Seriously?? How long does it take to make Nachos??”
Nic: “Remember the ‘there are people who would give anything to be where you are’ thing.
Me: “Yeah, you’re right. We have a car full of food … my son is sitting next to me – healthy. But … seriously!! It’s NACHOS!”
Gratitude is a little harder on an empty stomach.
Must stay Gold … no, wait, I’m not Pony Boy – must stay grateful. Which is a kind of gold.
(Great now I have that maple bacon dog video in my head … ‘the gold kind of grateful – yeah?’)
I reminded myself of this while getting frustrated with my room & closet and after tripping over the nth box for the nth time.
I reminded myself of WHY I was doing the task at hand, and how lucky I am to be preparing for the permanent arrival of my true love. SO I shut the fuck up and kept plugging away.
Back to today.
Glaucoma man has donned his Summer attire. It reached almost 90 degrees yesterday – so I don’t blame him. And I’ve got to admit, for a 79 year old man, he’s got some decent get-away-sticks.
Here he is again – posing. lol
I was a little disappointed in him today.
We had our usual ‘eyeball’ chat. Even talked about getting older and about counting blessings. It was lovely. Then he said something a little racist. And I went through that dilemma of ‘do I let him know that’s not okay?’ or ‘do I understand that this man is going to be 80 in 4 months and stuck in his ways … even though he JUST referenced how some people shouldn’t be so ignorant.’
I went with removal of eye contact and no agreeable smile. I think sometimes body language speaks louder than words.