May 30, 2011

Dork of the Day (or The Ding That Wasn't)

When things happen to my condo or car, I like to take care of the problem as soon as possible so I don't have to worry about it. That's why when a rock hit my windshield, putting a nice sized ding in it, I immediately called a company to fill it in before it could become a full-fledged crack. I had used this company before and they'd always done an outstanding job. This day they provided the same outstanding service.

My appointment window was between 9:00 and 12:00; they were coming to me, so I wasn't going to lose any work time, just a lot of money to fix the rock ding. Around 10:00ish, a nice lady arrived to repair my windshield. But when I went outside to meet her, she said she couldn't see a current chip, just one that had already been repaired. Huh? I could clearly see it. Was she blind? Did they send me a newbie who hadn't been trained properly? No worries. I'd help her out. I opened my car door, slid behind the wheel, and pointed to the big rock ding.

"Ah!" she said as I joined her outside, "I see the problem."

And with that, she used her thumb to scrape away my "ding." Turns out my ding was...a bug. After apologizing to her profusely and being reassured that I wouldn't be charged for the bug diagnosis, she assured me I wasn't the first to call about a "rock/bug ding." That didn't keep me from feeling like the Dork of the Day, but it was nice to know I wasn't the only one.

We all have our dorky moments. They keep life interesting and sometimes provide a few laughs. So here's to me and my Dork of the Day moment!

May 18, 2011

The Daisy Trail

It feels like forever since I've posted something new. These days, I do several things a bit slower than I used to, thanks to my unexpected side trip to the hospital a month ago. It's temporary. I'm working my way back to normal bit-by-bit. But nothing prepared me for the horror I would feel while doing something that used to be a breeze: walking a mile.

My doctor told me I should take it easy and never go fast enough to begin breathing heavily. No problem. I've walked that trail a hundred times. For a few days I went out, did my walk, and was proud of myself for making it up the little hill and back down again. OK, so it's really just a slight incline. It took longer than it used to and I had to keep slowing down because I became winded easily (thanks a lot, blood clots), but I did it. Then I realized just how slow I was going. Turtle slow. Worse than old lady slow. Toddler just learning to walk slow.

There I was, enjoying the beautiful day, saying hello to those going the opposite direction, when it happened. I was passed by two small women who were at least in their 70s. They had their cute little outfits on, complete with matching caps, and there I was in my baggy jeans (because I've lost weight) and giant straw hat (hey, it was sunny and I'm very fair). I had just been smoked by Miss Daisy and her friend on the walking trail. Fine. It was a sad moment. I stopped to mourn and catch my breath.

So on I trudged, trying to convince myself that they were superhuman and I'm really not that slow. The reality is that I am right now. That's OK. If I keep doing what I'm supposed to, someday I'll be back to normal or better, and when I am, I'll leave them in the dust as I pass and be proud of how much I've progressed.