Portrait of Rose

An Open Mind Keeps Me Grateful

In response to the Discover Challenge | Open-minded

Spent a lot of last night at work almost literally biting my tongue for fear of what I might say. I was just itching to say something b-ei-t-chy. Just ITCHING. Even went so far as to inform my co-worker, just gotta throw it out there… MENOPAUSE. You know, case something slipped out, you know, so she knew it wasn’t personal or anything. Took everything I had to keep all my cranky thoughts to myself.

Most of the night was fairly routine, lots of walking, lifting, and thinking of new ways to get stuff to fit and be retrievable in our small warehouse, plus last night all the other normal nightly closing sort of stuff. Busy busy busy,

Occasionally I am called to the front for customer assistance bringing in some items, or to help them take things out.

For me, the introvert, it is the aspect I most dread. You know me. I guess it is one of the parts of the job most of us would rather not do. But oh well.

Not that we necessarily object to helping, like the elderly couple, or the Mom with the stroller and such lift and carry. I mean it is not always possible to find someone to come to help; I get that. Although, I do think some just make some grand assumptions and feel entitled and don’t think they have to lift one manicured nail or desk jockey arm to help.

I keep an open mind, though.

Take this guy last night. Called to the front for a carry-in, and find this 6’5″ giant of a man, easily triple of me in girth, and my first thought is “this is who needs my help? Seriously? This is why I am being pulled away from the hundred and one things I know I’m not going to get done tonight?”

Well, fine, maybe he has a bad back and no friends.

So out I go, and on the way out of the building, he makes some stupid comment about if I think I’m up to the task, which is when I had to restrain myself from kicking the jerk in the shins. And no mention of why exactly he needed my help, so I figured these must be some fairly heavy boxes.


As I walked with him across the parking lot I admit the thought did cross my mind that this jerk could grab me and shove me in his trunk and take off and know one would be the wiser till we were half way to the 401…but I pushed that thought away. Another reason I hate this part of my job; I don’t trust people.

Instead, I swallowed that fear and proceeded towards his small 4-door car.

Jerk ended up lifting the boxes out of the back seat himself, and I only helped him to position the one box on the cart so it would lie flat. When I came back in, my colleague mentioned that he had actually asked them if they had a big burly guy in the back who could lift some heavy boxes for him. To which they replied, “no sir, but Paula here can HELP you”.

Oh, and the looks I get vary. Bewilderment, awe, amusement. Rather fascinating, actually.

It is entirely possible I suppose they don’t have that part of their brain that triggers one to consider “maybe I should bring some help with me“? PLANNING people. PLANNING ahead.

Yeah, b-ei-t-chy-onekenobi, I know. Tad cranky of late.

I have realized, though, regardless of the odd jerk, that most people ARE very gracious; but only if that’s how you treat them. Right back at ya I often say to myself…take THAT. Take KIND, and HUMBLE. I find maybe I am becoming a woman of strength.

I suppose that guy just waltzed in and thought we all were out back waiting for the opportunity to help some 250-pound beer swilling couch potato carry in boxes he is quite capable of lifting onto the cart himself. Quite. Doesn’t want to maybe, fine. BUT… I can hold my own. So it is amusing if they let me show them I can. I got technique.

I’m small. But I’m mighty.

Biking helps. It helps a lot. I guess maybe that ride also helps in other ways, too. Keeps my mind open. At rest.

When you’re cycling 30 minutes at 4:30 AM in the morning, it is quiet. It is often beautiful. Sometimes a little spooky.

And at times Cardinals sing to the dawn. And I am charmed. It inspires me. It is the best parts of my day. There, and back again. Through the streets, through Euston Meadow, through the back streets, up that big hill, and sometimes I take it, and sometimes I walk.

See, I give myself lots of time. I can go slow, I can go fast. I just open my mind, and sometimes, almost, feels like I’m flying through the city streets, and not riding. It’s weird.

I really, really, like it.

It is a fun way to start your day. It sets the right tone.

Well, I got to head to bed, as I’m getting a cold, but the night is fresh, the winds blowing in through the window, and it is refreshed in here. I washed the floors, I swept this, vacuumed that. Did the dishes. Banged the carpets. Set them out in the sun.

So on your birthday this year, that friend, Sue, you know, the friend of Crossroad.man’s? Well, we sat out here in my little garden and drank a few beers. We chatted bout stuff. As the refreshing night air of late Summer had set in. My time of year. Becoming Autumn.

I suppose I felt a little cranky from the humidity. But I am grateful, none the less. Can you be cranky and grateful?

But the humidity broke today. There was a cool breeze. So I’ve had the windows open. Letting it flow through the apartment, and then head out into the night air, through the kitchen, where I have a window fan on an exhaust.

Well, bed time. Really gotta go.

5 AM comes early.



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