No, the sky isn't falling.
Some days I've gotta remind myself of that very thing, several times.
I unload a shit-ton (sorry for the technical term) of goods to the local Women's Shelter, to make room for the downsizing jobs of the day. The women are very animated, digging through the bags of clothing and kids books as we haul them out of my car. I have to pay attention that some of my personal items don't end up in their bedrooms. I've lost precious cargo a few times while picking my nose as we dole-out the goods.
The sky isn't falling.
I'm in a hurry since I've got an appointment.
When my client doesn't answer her doorbell for the second appointment in a row, I'm peeved. This time, however, she does pick up the phone call and tells me she isn't home, can I come back another day?
Now what?
The sky isn't falling.
I call my hair stylist to see if she can fit my in early.
Yes!
Race to the store to buy more stuff for the Period Packs (more on this Project another blog post) THANK YOU TROY for your generous donation yesterday. Pain relievers, pads, tampons, baby wipes, and chocolate bars go in the basket. I feel as though I need to explain myself at the checkout but the clerk doesn't seem to care I look "over age" for these products.
Back in the car, I round the corner. The salon's within spitting distance. I discover a little ancient lady, standing on the side of the freeway entrance with a piece of cardboard. The sign read something or other about her life, I pulled over and gave her a handful of stuff from the cloth grocery bag. Everyone could use sundries and a bit o' chocolate!
The sky isn't falling.
My hairs are cut and highlighted within the hour, and I make my way to the next client's storage unit.
We open the door to a stack of boxes, floor to ceiling. I can't even fit my finger between the boxes to scoot one out.
The sky isn't falling.
I holler for the guy at the front desk to help me get the one box out, to start the process. He gets a candy bar for his efforts.
Pull enough boxes out of the unit to get the client inside, on a folding chair (I unfold it first, so she can sit down) and start sorting the past four decades of her life.
I turn and catch her trying on a pair of white kid leather gloves, reading a birthday card from her sister from when she turned five. She then yanks out three new pair of socks, a silver mirror and brush set from mother, scads of greeting cards for a successful wedding, spreading sympathy in death, birthdays galore, graduation, a christening, retirement, anniversary, more birthday, communion, and holiday greetings.
As she's cavorting through her life, I pull and push, prod and plead the large boxes out of the Biggest Storage Unit EVER and make my way down a few rows before we call it quits.
The sky isn't falling.
Pack my car, coordinate the remaining boxes for the next visit (hopefully before the new buds come out on the trees since I'm attempting to save her a winter of storage fees) and we lunge the stacked car forward to take her home.
The chickens I pass on the way to my house, are rooting around in the dirt, paying me no mind. I sit for a few minutes, wondering what they think about; aside from fresh greens and bugs, plucking the feathers of the weakest, and getting to their nest at the end of the day.
While I state aloud, "The sky isn't falling. Today is a good day, for a good day!" I realize I probably know more than the chickens.
Please share if you feel moved (and a comment is always welcomed!)