Perspective

Things I woke up pissed about on Saturday morning:

1. The dishes I shipped to Washingon D.C. for use this summer arrived mostly broken.
2. The Boyfriend sharing that particular piece of information with me over the phone.
3. The smudge in my new $26 pedicure.

Then, two hours later, my cousin Michelle called to say that my uncle Bob died while mowing the grass. He had a heartattack and fell in the driveway. It was too late by the time they found him.

My parents were at The Colonial Golf Tournament, where cell phones are prohibited. Katie had to go to work, and I had to go to a wedding. So Bradley had to share the news with them when they returned home.

A thousand dishes could have broken and a thousand toe nails could have smudged; I think I would have survived.