A friend at work said, “We’re going to have to call you The Count….” when this whole process started three weeks ago.
I didn’t get it….he had to tell me “Sesame Street?”….. for me to get it.
Sparrow was sick when I got home from work.
104.7 sounds like a good number for an FM station….but it’s not a good number for a little girl.
Jenny gave her some medicine…and the fever dropped.
The two of them are asleep still.
This count….this count….this thing that’s captured my attention and concern this past three weeks….the thing that determines how many weekends I get to spend with my family…..this thing that tells me how much money I make and how long it takes me to make it…..
This freaking count….
It is nothing.
I get all jacked up over nothing.
Jobs come and jobs go….and each one has its moments that get me kind of emotional….highs and lows….silly things that fill up my “worry pool”…..
And, then….I have a sick child and I realize that the thing that I use to support our needs is really NOTHING.
Not a single thing.
It just doesn’t matter in the light of a sick child.
Today is the last day of the count.
I guess that they extended it because of the holiday.
That’s fair….and I’m surprised that they didn’t try to adjust “the matrix” in some strange and cryptic USPS way to avoid doing it today, too.
One more day of this BS….but today, I have a secret.
My job is a tool….it’s a tool that I can pick up or put down (well, actually, I can probably only “put it down” once….unless I can get creative with all these sick days that I’ve never used….)….pick up or put down any time.
IT’S A TOOL.
IT’S NOT ME.
I have a little girl who is sleeping comfortably who was sick last night.
That’s the real thing.
That’s the “substance”.