Tuesday morning I woke up in the usual way--right arm flailing in the general direction of the snooze button on my radio alarm clock, trying to smack down disturbing soundbites of NPR news between nine-minute (and why nine, alarm clock maker people?) reprieves. As I finally dragged myself from my comfy cocoon at the last possible moment, I was filled with the urge to call in sick. Only I knew I couldn't. It was too busy at work and I'd be letting people down. I tried to positive self-talk myself to the shower, but I was having none of it. It was going to be a no good, horrible, very bad day and I could do nothing to alter the suckage.
Then I show up at work to find my favorite coffee drink sitting on my desk. One of those people I couldn't let down had made an impromptu Starbucks run to surprise me. This alone had a remarkable effect on my outlook, as food and beverage-related items often do. Later in the day, I got a free lunch, a couple of compliments from co-workers, heard a radio commercial on the air for the first time that I'd scribed and managed to get out of a meeting I was dreading. All in all, a good, wonderful, pretty damn OK kind of day. A day I would have "missed" by pouting under the covers.
I guess I showed me.