When I walked into the Y locker room this morning, everyone said, “Hey, good morning. How are you doing?” I’m usually great and I say so. Today I said, “I’m having a pity-party. How are you?” They were flummoxed because it’s so NOT me. Of course they wanted to know what dreadful thing had occurred to cause me to be in such a state. Nothing. That’s the thing about pity-parties. . .they are totally unreasonable events.
I yammered on about how we didn’t have the money to travel this summer. . .or ever. . . and how everyone I know seems to be either planning, or going on, or already on some great trip and blah, blah, blah. Classic pity-party stuff. Half of them can’t travel either so they get it. Some of them don’t want to, but they get it anyway. Some of them have illnesses or close family members with illnesses putting travel way down on their wish lists.
Stir in a couple of hugs; a few “I hear you’s!” or “We get it’s!”; some shared water aerobics antics; and the reality that I got good news from several doctors this week, and the pity-party is now over. Life is good. . . even if it is spent at home. Especially when you have a “tribe” that gets you! BING! Heartprint!