Mary Ann Hayes

My lower back is aching, can’t even bend down to pet the dogs. My mind takes an additional cup of coffee to wake up. Focus. Focus. There’s so much to do. Prioritize. I suppose that’s the key. Making a list and checking it twice. Oh, no! The holiday season is upon us. Have I given any thought to what to get, what to do, what to have?

Sigh. Just start with a dog walk. Stretch and move on from there. In a bit. Just after this coffee. Then make the list. It’s raining and I don’t want to go out. Walk, pick up, get wet, then dry off all those paws and soggy furry coats. Head downstairs with that laundry. Return all those calls and emails and texts. It’s dreary. It’s cold. Need to find my slippers. The ones from Alaska. Furry and warm like the dogs.

I could go back to sleep. Curl up and pretend it’s the middle of the night. Pull the comforter up under my chin and fluff up the pillows. Good old guilt propels me forward.I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for being raised Catholic.

I was hurrying into Safeway yesterday, in Bellevue. An old bag lady, all wrinkled and frayed sat on the concrete in front of the store with her meager belongings, leaning against the wall, swatting away a rogue bee. She was so out of place. I don’t know where the city of Bellevue keeps it’s homeless, but somehow this one escaped. A rare sighting.

“Do you need help?” I asked.

“Got any spare change?” She mumbled. “Just need spare change.”

“Well, do you need food? I’m going shopping, I can buy you some food.”

“Don’t need food girly, just need money.”

“I won’t give you money, but I’ll give you a ride to a shelter and I can buy you food. What do you think?”

“I think I’ll just stay here and take a nap.” She leaned her head back and closed her eye.

Okay, time to break out the gratitude journal. I am so thankful for a roof over my head, food in my belly, love in my life! I promise to quit complaining because people like me have nothing to complain about. Can I get an amen?

Later,

Me