It is almost always the little things which make (or break) my day.
My always loving, ever supportive family told me 'small things for small minds' was the reason.
There are without doubt people who lead 'important' lives. I am not one of them. I don't have a life plan either.
I muddle along from day to day.
Yesterday was a pretty good illustration.
I went into town to do my usual shift on the crisis line.
As I walked through the city centre I saw a busker who has recently claimed a particular corner as his own.
As I went past he launched into rippling classical music. I had to double check that my eyes hadn't lied to me to me about his instrument. They hadn't. It was a recorder. A fairly beat-up and obviously well used recorder. So I stopped to give him some money and tell him how lovely it was. When I continued on my way we were both smiling. A win.
A block or so away I saw another regular. A European woman who I think is in her late seventies. She brings flowers from her garden to town in her granny trolley and sells the beautifully arranged posies. We have been chatting for months and she told me that it is getting too cold for her, and she will be back in spring. I am glad that I was there for her final day - and won't have to worry about her when I don't see her.
Nearly at the crisis centre I stopped in at the homeless community centre to drop off some food to go in the 'weekend packs' which are made up by the co-ordinator of the centre. She does a lot on a very small budget, with assistance from one other staff member. She wasn't there, but I was made very welcome, and invited to share a cuppa with them with the people using the centre. (The weekend packs are clever. A small collection of nourishing meals which can be prepared without access to a kitchen. And meals for the homeless are reasonably easy to track down during the week, and much rarer over the weekend.) More smiles.
We have a new group of trainees just hitting the phones. Nervous and excited. And needed. So my role was supervision. And the woman I mentored will be back to do another shift next week. Another win.
I finished my shift and headed home to discover we had no Internet. The ISP was having a hissy fit.
For a change the person on the help desk was helpful. Not patronising. Patient. He couldn't fix the problem though. Sigh. And talking to him I started to sneeze. And sneeze. And sneeze some more.
Some hours later, Internet access was restored.
I am coming down with a lurgy and am snotty and achy. And it was still a good day. Not earth shattering, but a good day. It seems that my introverted self has found a few places where I can interact and move on. Without being drained, and without guilt. Which is lovely.
My always loving, ever supportive family told me 'small things for small minds' was the reason.
There are without doubt people who lead 'important' lives. I am not one of them. I don't have a life plan either.
I muddle along from day to day.
Yesterday was a pretty good illustration.
I went into town to do my usual shift on the crisis line.
As I walked through the city centre I saw a busker who has recently claimed a particular corner as his own.
As I went past he launched into rippling classical music. I had to double check that my eyes hadn't lied to me to me about his instrument. They hadn't. It was a recorder. A fairly beat-up and obviously well used recorder. So I stopped to give him some money and tell him how lovely it was. When I continued on my way we were both smiling. A win.
A block or so away I saw another regular. A European woman who I think is in her late seventies. She brings flowers from her garden to town in her granny trolley and sells the beautifully arranged posies. We have been chatting for months and she told me that it is getting too cold for her, and she will be back in spring. I am glad that I was there for her final day - and won't have to worry about her when I don't see her.
Nearly at the crisis centre I stopped in at the homeless community centre to drop off some food to go in the 'weekend packs' which are made up by the co-ordinator of the centre. She does a lot on a very small budget, with assistance from one other staff member. She wasn't there, but I was made very welcome, and invited to share a cuppa with them with the people using the centre. (The weekend packs are clever. A small collection of nourishing meals which can be prepared without access to a kitchen. And meals for the homeless are reasonably easy to track down during the week, and much rarer over the weekend.) More smiles.
We have a new group of trainees just hitting the phones. Nervous and excited. And needed. So my role was supervision. And the woman I mentored will be back to do another shift next week. Another win.
I finished my shift and headed home to discover we had no Internet. The ISP was having a hissy fit.
For a change the person on the help desk was helpful. Not patronising. Patient. He couldn't fix the problem though. Sigh. And talking to him I started to sneeze. And sneeze. And sneeze some more.
Some hours later, Internet access was restored.
I am coming down with a lurgy and am snotty and achy. And it was still a good day. Not earth shattering, but a good day. It seems that my introverted self has found a few places where I can interact and move on. Without being drained, and without guilt. Which is lovely.
