Every morning at work, I park the old Honda in a garage, and then walk down 3 flights of stairs, across a little driveway, between some dumpsters, and then let myself in the back door by the loading dock using my key card. It’s not glamorous – especially when someone consistently leaves his or her fast-food trash in the stairwell.
This happens frequently – I will find a Wendy’s bag and a jumbo cup sitting in the middle of a stair. Just sitting. It almost looks like someone left it there for later, except… ewww. Apparently there is no janitorial service in the stairwells of the parking garage, because the same Wendy’s bag will sit there for days, and days, and days – hundreds of business people stepping over it every hour.
Last night after work, I saw the same trash I had seen in the morning. Except now, there was a Post-It note on the cup that said, “Whoever the slob is that left this, pick it up and throw it away.”
This morning, it’s still there.
I don’t know whether to be annoyed at the slob, or at the passive-aggressive note-leaver. Currently, I am equal parts both.
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This morning, I received an email from a friend. My inbox view gives me a little preview line of the message, and this is what the preview read:
“Oh yeah, I decided you should be a columnist for a music magazine. You already have a killer body”
I did a triple-take.
And then I opened up the actual message, and finished the sentence: “… of work.” Dang it.
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I ran 7 miles on Sunday. I’m having lunch with this Annie today. Jeremy and Ashley come tomorrow. Sarah gets married on Saturday. Megan’s playing the Bluebird on Sunday. I’m recording with Josh next week. Greta just bought a ticket to come in 2 ½ weeks (squeeeeeeeee!!). I have my favorite plan ever for Valentine’s Day. I love my friends. I love my roommates. My car keeps starting. My coffee pot percolates every morning. I had delicious soup last night. I bought new fuchsia sheets for $12 at Target. In the midst of a lot of uncertainty, I am choosing to be grateful for all the good things – and there are many.
I just looked back on the entry I wrote one year ago today, when I had finished my 4 month road-trip, was less than a month into my life in Nashville, didn’t really know anyone here, and had just returned from a weekend visit to Seattle. And I am happy to say that, even through the hard times and anxiety and fear, yes, it’s good.