Real Concerns

My last post looks a lot whinier than I had intended. It was not a good morning, no question, but well, everyone has bad mornings now and then. And, in the grand scheme of things, was it really such a bad morning?

The same morning that I was fretting about paying the vet bill and crumpling some woman’s bumper, there were people in the world dealing with real concerns. War. Genocide. Famine.

Or how about closer to home? Today’s newspaper noted that for the last 16 years at a local high school, someone from every graduating class has died from an alcohol-related auto accident. That’s 16 families that will never be the same.

Or closer still…. There’s the woman who works across the hall from me whose every waking moment outside of work is spent caring for her husband with end-stage emphysema. There’s the colleague who had to move his family 60 miles away in order to find a school that can adequately address his autistic daughter’s needs. There’s the woman down the hall who will be told this week that our division’s restructuring is eliminating her job.

And I’m fretting about a vet bill and a crumpled bumper. Shame on me.

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