I had a strange experience last night. First, some context: this is my ninth holiday season working retail, and I know for a fact that I don't have a tenth one in me. Every day seems to be worst than the last, and last night I actually gritted my teeth to keep from screaming in frustration. It's not just that the customers at this store in Maryland seem to be worse than those I've dealt with in Indiana and Texas, it's also that I have a lot of fundamental issues with the way this Barnes & Noble store (and especially the music section, where I work) is run.
But anyway, last night, I was really pissed off and frustrated less than an hour into my shift. This older guy came in and looked at the religious music section for a while, then limped on a cane up to the cash register, where I rang him up. He spoke softly, so it was kind of hard to hear, but he mentioned something about taking things "one day at a time." He started talking (for some reason, everyone wants to talk to the person working in music -- that's held true in three stores across three different states), and said something about each day being a gift from God. Apparently he was a Vietnam vet, and when he was over there he counted down each day of his tour and thanked God for making it through that day alive. Then last year he was diagnosed with cancer, which had already killed three people in his family. He was given seven months to live; that was a little over twelve months ago. He was 69 years old, and he said his daughters had told him that, if he made it to 70, they would throw him a huge party; he didn't want to let them down. He actually looked me in the eye and said "God works in strange ways, you know. Each day means something." After he left, I took a moment to think about that; I wasn't quite as stressed the rest of the night.
Maybe it was just a weird coincidence that that incident happened at that time, when I was going through a period of general anger and anxiety, and maybe it wasn't. Either way, for some reason, it made me feel a bit better.
I've been trying to be more relaxed about things lately; I was failing up until yesterday. My classes are finally over, and I'm working on a second, much shorter novel (I already feel really good about it). Money is still a major issue, as is my work situation, but still, I'm trying to just keep things in perspective and not get so worn down by the little things. It's harder than it should be sometimes, but every once in a while something like meeting that guy last night happens to help me keep my head.
RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE DAY (I used to do these with all my blog entries; I should start doing that again): A cynic's philosophy: some days you eat shit, and some days shit eats you.
But anyway, last night, I was really pissed off and frustrated less than an hour into my shift. This older guy came in and looked at the religious music section for a while, then limped on a cane up to the cash register, where I rang him up. He spoke softly, so it was kind of hard to hear, but he mentioned something about taking things "one day at a time." He started talking (for some reason, everyone wants to talk to the person working in music -- that's held true in three stores across three different states), and said something about each day being a gift from God. Apparently he was a Vietnam vet, and when he was over there he counted down each day of his tour and thanked God for making it through that day alive. Then last year he was diagnosed with cancer, which had already killed three people in his family. He was given seven months to live; that was a little over twelve months ago. He was 69 years old, and he said his daughters had told him that, if he made it to 70, they would throw him a huge party; he didn't want to let them down. He actually looked me in the eye and said "God works in strange ways, you know. Each day means something." After he left, I took a moment to think about that; I wasn't quite as stressed the rest of the night.
Maybe it was just a weird coincidence that that incident happened at that time, when I was going through a period of general anger and anxiety, and maybe it wasn't. Either way, for some reason, it made me feel a bit better.
I've been trying to be more relaxed about things lately; I was failing up until yesterday. My classes are finally over, and I'm working on a second, much shorter novel (I already feel really good about it). Money is still a major issue, as is my work situation, but still, I'm trying to just keep things in perspective and not get so worn down by the little things. It's harder than it should be sometimes, but every once in a while something like meeting that guy last night happens to help me keep my head.
RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE DAY (I used to do these with all my blog entries; I should start doing that again): A cynic's philosophy: some days you eat shit, and some days shit eats you.
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I wish you nothing but happiness.