Last night I had support group.
Actually, I met two sisters at the mall food court - we laughed, we cried, we ate, we counselled. Its cheaper than a real therapist, plus one can scoot over to Wal-Mart on the way out for milk and granola bars, fabric for Arianna's home ec, and a couple of bags of candy for my mindful eating program.
I talked my sisters out of a pricier Italian restaurant in favour of the food court since what I really wanted to do was watch people. I know I have stooped to a new low when I make a point of finding people who clearly are much worse off than me. And that's where I spawned my highly cynical, super sarcastic list of gratitudes:
My breasts are saggy, but comfortably within the "c" range. If I had to haul around pendulous appendages in the double "z" zone, optimism would seem a lofty goal. So would the hopes of my back ever feeling aligned.
I'm not exactly a trend-setter, but at least I've glanced around since 1981, and I don't sport a MULLET!! Maybe, I'm just not self-confident enough. Either way, I'm good with it.
My husband does not think of track pants as formal wear. Or casual wear. Or as something that goes with a mullet.
I was genuinely, un-sarcastically touched and encouraged by the food court cleaning ladies. They weren't pretty, or well-dressed, and I'm sure they worked very hard for very little financial return. The one lady was decidedly warty. Still, she came by our table (we stayed for hours, there didn't seem to be a "no loitering" by-law... ) and with the most pleasant smile and graciousness that would lend itself well to a better paying establishment, offered to clear our trays for us.
She didn't have to do that.
She could have been a grouch, and to be honest, I would have expected that from her. Whether she had decided to or not, this lady was doing the ordinary in extraordinary ways.
And that, folks, is some of what I learned at the food court yesterday.
Stay tuned. By late this afternoon, or tomorrow, I may be simply be reduced to reminiscing about the days when I kicked at the darkness. Kicking right now sounds way too closely related to another thing I suck at : consistent exercise.