So, I have this plaque that used to sit above my coffee maker; I’m pretty sure I told you about it before. It says, “Good morning. This is God. I’ll be handling all your problems today.” Judging by my stress level and the anxiety medications my doctor felt inspired to suggest as he asked kindly if I had a therapist, apparently that site just wasn’t in plain enough sight.
I did the obvious, and moved the coffee maker – not really. I moved the plaque. When you come down my stairs immediately you are confronted (might sound like an assault, and if you haven’t had enough sleep it certainly feels that way) by a very large plantation-shuttered window. Well, I stood on my tippy-tip toes and stretched the full length of my just-under 5 ft tall body and shoved that plaque to the top ridge of the shutter. Now I couldn’t miss those words unless I was deliberately evading them, and I was never good at hide’n seek. I see that assurance every time I come/fall/trip down the stairs, and with the state of my memory right now, believe me, I’m making an inordinate number of trips back up the stairs: for the shoes already by the front door, the cell phone already in my purse, the sweater already on my body. I guess you could say my unreliable memory is a blessing. Now I see, really see, that plaque 12-15 times a day. And the memory thing is turning out to be excellent for my thighs, too – bonus!
The Unexpected Life 