Turning my thoughts around

Driving home from work yesterday: Cold, tired, a bit discouraged.  One or two good developments brewing with cases but my bones ache and my head feels hewed in two.  The tight spot beneath my left shoulder blade tingles with the foreboding of a threatened shingles outbreak.  Complaints crowd my mind and I beat them back, willing myself to resist, feeling the elusiveness of success in my efforts.

I round the corner to my street and suddenly think about my friend Brenda.  Not surprising that I should, a few steps from where she lives but I haven’t seen her for weeks.  Though we are neighbors, I only met her this summer, so I don’t know what all might be occupying her time.   Then I’m pulling into  my parking space and there she is: bundled in a navy blue coat, gloves, a beret, and a thick scarf, walking the 17 double-blocks from her workplace to her home.

And in a twinkling, tea is brewing and I’m hearing about her trip to San Francisco.  She’s telling me that she just read two weeks’ worth of my bog entries and quietly expressing her sympathy on the death of my favorite curmudgeon.  And, although the aches, pains, and tingling nerve endings still lurk, my thoughts have turned their own corner and I find myself smiling.

 

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