As I drive the final half mile to work, I observe the sun-worn figures, their hands holding onto “Slow” sign poles, walkie talkie antennas, and cigarettes, a scene that greets me every morning adjacent to a construction zone. On the next block, the food bank line forms with several dozen people, some seated on the curb, patiently waiting for it to open. Another block down, I pass the Pink Elephant car wash, a nostalgic sight that’s has moved on from greeting Seattle’s visitors for years. Uneasy feelings begin to surface as I enter my workplace, and still, the morning’s events inspire me to write early today.
Before my first appointment, I’ll have a conversation with someone I had an unpleasant experience with last week. Seeking advice from Dave, he suggests being direct and acknowledging the previous encounter. The thought of addressing it head-on makes my stomach flutter, but I remind myself it’s just a conversation with another person. And that I can do it.
As I finish my lukewarm coffee, I feel a rush of energy, as if I’m about to step onto a stage. But in reality, I’m only sitting down to talk with people. I find myself contemplating whether to send a bill to collections, questioning the principle behind it. What does it truly mean to do the right thing in this situation? Perhaps it’s about learning from this experience, accepting the cost, and moving forward without dwelling on the drama it creates.
On a break I walk to my car, past the revving Tesla that taunts me, its likely air conditioning itself. I am not so lucky. Unfortunately, my driver’s side air conditioning has stopped working, leaving me to twist my body like a pretzel to catch a whiff of cool air from the passenger side.
Just a day. An ordinary day. And I’m very thankful to be a part of it.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 