Stage 1: SHOCK
Stage 2: DENIAL
That did not just happen. No. It did not. [plugs ears] La la la la la – I can’t hear you. This is not real.
Stage 3: ANGER
[furrows brow] Stupid man. Stupid man in his house. He should clean up this sidewalk – yeah, that’s right, get out his LEAF BLOWER and earn his keep. I loathe this tree. How dare it drop it’s leaves on my path? And the imbecile who thought up concrete? For sidewalks? I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM. Who invented Seattle, anyway? This is all his fault.
Stage 4: DESPAIR
[lower lip sticks out in a pout] This sucks. This totally sucks. Everyone saw, and I am such a loser. I will NEVER be cool. And the sludge? All over everything? My life is in shambles.
And I’ll probably never have a boyfriend, either.
Stage 5: ACCEPTANCE
Yes. I just slipped on the sidewalk, doing nothing but walking and breathing air. My entire body fell to the ground. That car full of people saw… and that one, too. I quickly stood up, looking around like nothing had happened, but the mud splatter up my leg is a dead giveaway. It’s okay. Things like this happen. Thank God for washing machines and anonymity.
- – - – - – - -
Welcome to Seattle, where the mosaic of wet autumn leaves has slicked the sidewalk, making a simple path impassable. I suppose that the winsome days of fall have their price – unfortunately, my sweats and self-esteem were this morning’s casualties.
Being back here in Seattle is wonderful and serene. But I am happy to report that my sadness at no longer living in Seattle is outweighed by my absolute excitement to move to Nashville.
I am on the right path. Even when it’s covered in slippery, wet leaves.