Home > Uncategorized > Enjoying the small things. Or trying to.

Enjoying the small things. Or trying to.

September 19, 2010 Leave a comment Go to comments

I had a small upset the other day.

My sister called me Thursday, just to say hi. We got off the phone and I cried. Not because of our conversation, but because it hit me right then just how much I was going to miss this past weekend.

My cousin got married in Dallas, and my entire mom’s side of the family was there for the event. Except for me.

Then there was the biggest game of the season in Lubbock. And even though I’m not a particularly huuuuge football fan, I wanted to be there for it. To soak up the atmosphere, the excitement. Those games are electric. And I needed to be a part of it, to feel a connection to this ratty town.

Then today, I became even more frustrated because all anyone could tell me about either event was that it was good. Or a letdown.

How was the game? “It was good.” “It was hot.” “It was crowded.” Jesus, describe it for me, please. I want to know how you were crammed up against the person beside you; how the crowd roared when we scored. I want to know how loud the stadium was and I want to know how your heart swelled up with joy at being there. Because I know at some point it did.

How was the wedding? “It was good.” “It was crowded.” “It was crazy.” “The music was too loud.” Dude, tell me more! That was my family I missed out on. What did my cousin look like in her dress? Did my aunt cry? How did the groom look at his bride during their first dance? Why did my other cousin’s new baby look like? Make it come alive for me, please. Becuase I’m sad I missed it.

I’ve been reading a new blog, Enjoying the Small Things, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. This woman, she’s amazing. She’s so in love with life it was makes me want to go into the bathroom at work and just dance to the song in my head. Just to get it out, just to get some endorphins going so I can have a smile at my face at work. Instead of succombing to the frown dragging the corner of my lips down.

Last night, when I knew my friends were at the game, and my cousin and family were dancing their hearts out at the reception I kept trying to list small things to be happy about.

I got to do the photo page at work.

I had plans to see friends after 11.

Yeah. That was it.

It was so hard to hear everyone’s complaints about last night. I mean, really? You were there. Isn’t that enough?

And I keep going back to one thought. If I’m going to miss out on events like these because of work, do I really want to be missing out on everything while I’m in Lubbock?

Categories: Uncategorized
  1. Lubbockite In Name Only
    September 20, 2010 at 1:00 pm

    The small things…funny story about something meaningless and inconsequential:

    As I came down out of the elevators for my morning commute, I wondered about the earthquake readiness of the parking garage. I’ve never been in an earthquake and I often wonder what it would be like. It would be terrible down here.

    I grabbed my door handle and pulled. Locked? My repeated clicking on the FOB yielded no response. Great…the overhead light. Public transit has been so good to me, I haven’t needed to even touch my car outside of the commute. Here sat my car lonely and slowly fading away all weekend. A twinge of anger creeped into my face while reflecting about my foolishness.

    “No problem, it’s a manual transmission. I can just push start this beast.” I begin searching within the earthquake inadequate structure for a strip to roll the machine. A tight squeeze in every direction.

    “Well, it looks like downhill toward the concrete wall!” People sat and watched. They gawked at the gentleman unable to ask for assistance slowing rolling his car into position.

    Driver side door open? Check. Key in ignition? Check. Humility? Missing. I checked my watch; looks like it’s go time.

    A quick push yielded slight movement of the metal contraption. One step after another…Down the ramp a large hunk of steel picked up speed with me in tow. People stepped out of their cars to see if the gent and his vehicle or the concrete would win this game of chicken.

    There was only a few seconds left at this speed. A leap through the door placed me squarely in the drivers seat, poised in 1st great, frantically stomping for the clutch. Resistance? Found it! At this range, it’s going to be immediate break if this works or me and the wall are going to be meeting in the worst way.

    The clutch ripped and engaged the sleeping gears. “Any moment it will turn over…any mome-THE WALL!” Inane abilities awoke in me. The emergency break seemed to pull its self as the steel began squealing in agony, trying to stop. My eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment.

    Laughing. Cars starting. People driving away; machines yielding to their commands. There was no sudden stop? Eyes open. It appears the stone wins this game of chicken with me less than an arms length away.

    The sweat suddenly turns cold as the chilling realization that failure has come again. Chilly humility began breezing by, reminding me of its presence.

    As I walked back to the elevator to procure the other vehicle, I looked back at my crooked vehicle; still dead. My gaze met the cold, gray wall. Another day wall…For now, it’s back my earthquake safe zone above.

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