Sometimes it feels like this: If thereís nothing to complain about, thereís nothing to write about. The weatherís good, thereís money in the bank account, and nobodyís looking over my shoulder or breathing down my neck, trying to get me to do something I donít want to do.
The petty grievances donít seem quite so bad when the rest of the universe is in tune. I even made a joke with Julie when she phoned at an inopportune time. I had just got back from the post office and the bank. It was exactly 12:00 noon. As I was putting my groceries (which I bought at the bank, not the post office) away, I had played the four new messages on the answering machine.
She could hear the exasperation in my voice when I answered the phone, and she started apologizing. So naturally, being me, I started backtracking, trying to assure her that of all the voices I might have heard on the other end of the line, hers was one that was welcome. I couldnít help bemoaning the fact that all these calls came during the time when everyone knows Iím not in the office. The Boss had told at least two of these people to phone me, so I blamed him. That always goes over well with Julie.
After we finished talking about the business that prompted her call, she started to apologize again. I didnít want her to think she had done anything wrong by making the call, so I told her, ďItís okay. I was putting my eggs away when you called, and I got eleven out of twelve done. For me, thatís pretty good.Ē She laughed, and all was well.