While keeping vigil for two days/nights in a row for my youngest son, checking his temperature, making sure he’s hydrated, and dosing him with, what seemed like way too much ibuprofen, I was able to catch a snooze here and there. The poor kid was sick and obviously miserable. I, was tired, almost delirious.

Somewhere between Saturday evening and Monday morning, I began to not feel well myself. Such is life I suppose. And, it just so happened I had an errand to the bank to run and then take my son to the doctor. At some point, I admitted to myself I was in fact, sick and intended to see if the doctor had an opening for me when I got there. If not, no biggie. I drive into 1 out of 3 lanes through the drive-thru at the bank. No one else appeared to be in any line. I fumble for my pen and the bank slip with my head pounding, body aching, throat hurting, snot dripping, and trying to focus on my task. I presume I spent approximately 30, maybe 45 seconds in doing so. As I began to roll down my window to hand the necessary contents to the teller and apologize for making him wait, I hear a LOUD honk from the person behind me. It not only startled me, it startled my son, and pounded like a shockwave through my pounding head. It sounded comparatively to a blowing horn in a cement parking garage with the car directly next to me. Um, seriously?!? I decide I do not recognize the car. I make it a point – literally and figuratively to wave my arm and point to the 2 OPEN lanes directly to the right and glare through my side view window. I mean, how dare they invade my lane and then dictate how much time I should take! Clearly, not okay! The teller appeared to show his sympathy with an apologetic look and went about his business, while all the while I’m glaring through that side view mirror. Bring it on baby!

I pull away and am agitated. I am sick in the not only physical, but emotional sense. I hate mean and selfish people. That jerk just set the tone for my day. No, screw that, I refuse…I refuse to allow others to set the tone for MY day…

Despite wanting to whine and pout, I decide to chant to myself:

I refuse to allow others to dictate how I feel…

I refuse to compete with other’s stupidity…

I acknowledge I can not control the behavior of others, although I can control my own…

I will accept finding the positive and the humor in it regardless…

Emotionally, I begin to feel better. I rationalize to myself what may have been the person’s problem; Maybe they were not feeling well too. Maybe they REALLY needed to use the restroom suddenly. Maybe they were disabled. Maybe a child honked the horn. Maybe that particular lane held sentiment. I try to decide it’s not my concern and none of my business. I’m starting to feel agitated again; I mean, who pissed in their Wheaties? I then imagine myself face to face with the person and initiating a rather lengthy monologue indicating evident sarcasm; “I’m truly sorry sir/mam, my parents were apparently idiots and did not teach me well. Should we cross paths again, do you mind telling me exactly what is the appropriate time limit to gather my things and hand it to the teller? I would like to follow the protocol exactly as you see it and not a second more!” I feel empowered. No, I feel vindictive. This is not good. I am allowing this person to dictate me.

I decide to try to focus on the moment and turn on some Christmas carols. I attempt to sing, where my son, my throat, and my head rebuttal the idea. “Deck the Halls” comes on and I reflect with my son on a scene in the movie, “A Christmas Story”. He knows exactly where I am going with this; the part about the Asian servers who are called out to sing to Ralphie and his family and instead of “Fa, La, La, La, La”, it’s “Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra”. My son begins to crack up. When it gets to that part of the song, with silly anticipation, he jumps into parody. Sick with fever, we are both cracking up.

We get to the doctor and I am able to squeeze myself in with my son’s appointment. I feel grateful. We get swabbed for strep; both positive. We get swabbed for the flu; both positive. I decided with these odds, I should go to Vegas and head straight for the Blackjack table next. Um, no.

I refuse to feel sorry for myself…

I recognize my crude humor can uplift my spirits or ruin them…

I will acknowledge my feelings and my current illness are not permanent.

I will accept my responsibilities can hold their own or can wait…

I accept I am human and that I too, can be a jerk.

Recently, I saw A “meme” that depicted:

3+2=5 and 4+1=5

“We all tend to think (react, behave) differently and still desire the same results”. (To feel better)