To You, Who Stole My Lunch

I'm sure you'll never read this. You don't even know who I am, and I don't know you. I caught a quick glimpse of you as I was entering the break room, when you were exiting with your Pretzel Bread Lean Pocket. I thought, how curious, someone else at work today brought the exact same thing I did for lunch. Then, upon looking in the freezer to grab my Lean Pocket and heat it up, I find that it's nowhere to be found. Not where I put it, not anywhere. I do a double-take, then a triple-take in the direction of the lady who just left. That wasn't her Pretzel Bread Lean Pocket; it was mine!

A plethora of emotions rush through me: anger, confusion, frustration, disappointment, and the like. I'm angry because that lady just stole my lunch. Confused as to why, of all the frozen dinners in the freezer, she would decide to take mine – did it really look that appealing? Frustrated that now I have to go back upstairs to my office (across the building, I might add), get some money out of my wallet, and traipse back to the break room to buy something else for lunch. Disappointed because, as paranoid as I can sometimes be, I do think of myself as a trusting person. I like to think that most people, given the chance, will do the right thing more often than they will do the wrong thing. But I am wrong. I often am in this respect.

Couple this Friday fiasco with the fact that this week alone we have had a power window on our van to cease functioning, leaving our driver's side window – at least temporarily – ever-ready for drive-thru ordering; we have both had more than our share of pressures at work of late (me because of pending deadlines which seem insurmountable, and Mary because it's almost the end of the school year, and that's always a crazy time); neither of us is sleeping well or enough for various reasons, not the least of which is stress; and oh, did I mention, our other car's brakes and air-conditioning are also on the way out. (We really need to invest some money into decent transportation.) So, needless to say, this heisted Lean Pocket incident was not the impetus for the aforementioned emotion rush so much as it was the proverbial camel's-back-breaking straw. But I digress.

Back to you, lady, the one who took my Lean Pocket. I don't what your reasons might have been. Maybe you were hungry and you didn't have any money for food (although it is payday Friday). Maybe you forgot to bring your lunch this morning and it was an opportunistic thievery. Or maybe you're just a mean person who likes to do mean things to people you don't even know. I don't know.

If you really wanted my lunch, or if you really needed it, I would have gladly given it to you, even though I have no clue who you are. But please ask me next time, don't just take it. That's just incredibly rude!



ADDENDUM:  To you, who pulled half in and half out of the turn lane on Evans and 10th around 1:30 this afternoon, holding up traffic in my lane for what seemed like an eternity, but was, in reality, probably no more than a minute at most:  I'm sorry I called you an idiot. You may or may not have deserved it, but I didn't need to say it. That was incredibly rude, too. I apologize.

Too Short To Ride The Roller Coaster

I'm sure you've all seen the signs that go something like this:

YOU MUST BE ____" TALL TO RIDE THIS ROLLER COASTER.

Well, sometimes I feel like I'm head and shoulders above that line and am prepared for any dips, turns, and spins that roller coaster may throw at me. Other days, I'm just shy of the qualifying height, and am content – dare I say, relieved – to be sitting on the sidelines and watching all those poor suckers blow chunks on the folks behind them.

(Okay, maybe that was a little gross, but I'm a guy...give me a break!)

What am I talking about, you ask? Good question.

Sometimes you see something coming that you aren't able to avoid, and yet you still find yourself ready to meet that challenge head on, come what may. Other times, you see trouble coming and you want to tuck tail and run the other way. I'm having one of those "tuck tail" days.

The more reliable of our two unreliable vehicles went into the shop yesterday, with both Mary and I expecting the worst. Turns out, it wasn't as bad as we expected. Just a busted alternator. I say "just" like getting it fixed didn't cost money – it did. But it could have been worse. We both breathed a huge sigh of relief. That is, until – on the way home from the auto shop – our other, older, and much less reliable vehicle decided that this would be an ideal time to show signs that its alternator was also on the fast track to busted! If you ask me, I think it's a sibling rivalry thing. Or that our imported car was jealous that the domestic van got to take a field trip to the shop, and it wanted to go too. I don't know, I'm probably over-thinking this whole thing.

Regardless, now we have to take the other car in to get it fixed. Of course, the tax refund check was just direct-deposited into our bank account this week!  Of course it was – that's when things always fall apart, right?

So, just a heads-up here: if you see me running down Arlington Boulevard (that's in G-Vegas for all you out-of-towners), and if I'm screaming like a banshee, and looking more than a little crazy, just smile and wave and keep on driving. Maybe I'll be tall enough for the roller coaster next week.


ADDENDUM:
Turns out I spoke too soon about the van - Mr. Reliable that it thinks itself to be - about it being "all better now" and all that jazz.  The check engine light decided to make an encore appearance just as Mary was pulling into our driveway. Problem UN-solved!

Plenty

I want a house. (But I have a house.) I want a car. (But I have a car.) I want money. (But I have money.) I want abundance. (But I have abundance.)

Perhaps I should clarify...

I want a nicer house that isn't as old, doesn't have as many problems, and isn't attached to five other "houses" - it's a townhouse.

And yet, the house I have is just fine. The heat works when it's cold. The air cools me off when it's hot. I have a place to take a shower in the morning, and a place to lay my head at night.

I want a car that ISN'T old enough to vote, that doesn't need something fixed every couple of months, that doesn't have a dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree with warning lights every time I drive it.

And yet, the car I have is just fine. The heat and air conditioning warm and cool me as needed. It never breaks down on the way to or back from work. And it's been completely paid off for years now.

I want money enough to to pay off all outstanding debts, enough to cover any unexpected hiccups that may come my way, enough to buy the things I want and not just the things I need.

And yet, I have enough money to pay my bills every month, with a little left over for savings. I'm not in danger of having my house foreclosed, or my car repossessed, or being sent to a collections agency for any reason. I have a job I enjoy that compensates me sufficiently to meet my needs. And, on occasion, I am able to afford some things that I want - but don't necessarily need.

I want abundance. And yet...

I have a house, a car, and a job. In many places all over the world, I would be considered a rich man.

When will I - and when will WE - realize what "plenty" really means?