When I was in high school my friends and I would hold random "Sticker Days." There was no rhyme or reason as to when they would occur, some days we would just decide, "Tomorrow is Sticker Day." The evening before the event, we would go to the local grocery stores and steal (yes, I said steal) packs upon packs of stickers from their stationary department. The next day we arrived, armed with stickers and proceeded to decorate anyone who wanted stickers with said stickers. We did not discriminate, all grades, all cliques were adorned by the end of the day. I seem to remember people seeking us out (which felt nice in high school) to get stickers, and there were some who adamently protested, whom we left alone (I think). The thing I remembered most was coming away from the day and having a genuinely satisfied and good feeling, that I had been a part of bringing people together and making some people smile. From my end, it seemed like people generally enjoyed those days, myself included.
Fastforward a few years and I just returned from delivering my cookies to three unexpecting friends. The first, it was her birthday and she had been craving them, the second because she lives across the street from the first and I'd feel foolish traveling that little distance and not spreading the calories (I mean goodness), and the third who hinted earlier that she had a hankerin' for some. I was able to meet one woman's little girl for the first time at one home and interrupt bedtime and be threatend with a piece of mind (which changed to a smile) at another.
My day began with a 5:30 am bootcamp (followed by bills, grocery shopping, laundry, making dinner, and the other normal occurrences of a Monday), but ended with my family reaping my wrath over things that were admitidly insignificant, but at the time, I just couldn't take one more thing. After they all slunk upstairs, I went to visit my friends, if only for a brief minute at the door, it was just the change of pace I needed to recharge my battery. I know about the adage that when you're feeling sorry for yourself, do something nice for someone else and you'll forget your worries (or something along those lines). I won't argue with that, at all, I just wish I could figure out another way to package up the frustration I feel at my family sometimes, and do something nice for them. Something different than paying the bills, stocking the fridge, cleaning the clothes and dishes, and making meals because those things don't seem very nice until they're not done. Maybe tomorrow on my way home from my spin class, I'll stop off at some store and buy a few packs of stickers.
Monday, June 15, 2009
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