Thursday, October 17, 2013

every bad day has a little bit of sunshine


I've made a huge mistake. In my attempt to surprise boyfriend with my super awesome ability to get things that are otherwise unavailable (it happens, sometimes), I scoured craigslist and picked what I thought was the best ad: Pearl Jam Tickets - FLOOR! It's a sold out show, and boyfriend really wants to go, so I write my email with urgency. He was asking face value, mentioned family issues as his reason for missing the show, and his love of the band...so of course he's legit, right? I sent him money via the interwebs and have watched him wisp away into oblivion as the money left my account and I realized, hey, I'm not actually getting any tickets out of this, am I. I am angry, at myself. I am upset that some people choose to live off of stolen money, while honest people work for it.

I am being very, very diplomatic in that paragraph (one day you can ask Jesus about all the thoughts I've had today and what happened to me as a result, and he will shake his head in disappointment and point to the fiery depths of hell).

The day has to get better, right?

Maybe I'll walk across the street and buy a big ol' box of halloween candy. "For the kids." I tell myself, knowing full well I don't mean it. I look both ways before I cross. Seeing only one vehicle -- a van that needed to drive half a block, come to a stop sign, stop, and then drive another half block to reach me, on a street with a speed limit of 50 k -- I had plenty of time. I step off the curb. I hear an engine revving. I see the van has blown right through the stop sign and is speeding up toward me. I run, they slow. They smile. Like threatening death is funny.

I made it to the candy, and back to work, rattled by all the bad. Sad that the highlight of today is a packet (ahem...multiple packets) of sugary treats.

And then, about 6 mini treats in (that's an estimated number), I get a message from my mom: "Here are the illustrations I've been working on!" For my silly little children's book. My mom is drawing the pictures for me. I get a little teary, and I bend a thankful knee: the illustrations are beautiful. They're exactly what I've imagined since I was a tiny human. When we finish, and we print it, I'll let you see them. Until then, I'm keeping them to myself. Today's no-good-very-bad-day-remedy, a childhood dream complete. My mom is drawing for me. You can take my money, but you can't take that.

mama and me



1 comment:

Mama said...

I just read this. I had no idea. I want to pummel the people who wrecked your day. (Deep breaths)

What a wonderful picture of you & me. I love you. And I'm thankful to God that you want me to illustrate for you.