My life sucks

I wrote about this, which happened sometime last winter:

Yesterday was one of those days! I woke up at 7:00, an hour later than
normal, because I had forgot to set my alarm. All of my good socks were dirty, so
I had to wear an old pair of socks. As I was leaving the house, the
chipping paint around my front door reminded me that I've only got one more
season left on this paint job. I grumbled about not having a garage to put my car in, as I scrapped my windows.

When I got to work (late), the main garage was full, so I had to go across
the street to park in the new garage. In the old garage I can usually get
a spot fairly close to the elevator lobby, so its a short walk. The garage is attached to the building, so I don't have to go outside. This morning, the closest spot required walking down three flights of stairs, and then across the street and up another flight.

My day was very hectic as I have a number of deadlines and not enough time
to get stuff done. Lunch was a boring PB&J eaten while I worked
through lunch. I called my wife about 5 and let her know that I would be
late, yet again. She told me she'd put a plate in the oven to keep dinner
warm for me. When I looked up and saw 9:00 on the clock, I called her back to tell her I was leaving. She told me the plate was still warm, but the food was all dried
out.

Because it was after the time the security guards leave, to get out of the building, I had to walk up the stairs to the 8th floor, swipe my badge to go through that dumb revolving security door, and then take the elevator back down to the ground floor. It was freezing and drizzling as I walked back across the street to the garage. I cussed as I stood in the freezing rain, digging through my briefcase to get my badge back out. After who-knows-what hour, the door to the garage is locked and you have to scan your badge to get back into the garage. As I walked back up the stairs, I
noticed that mine was one of 3 or 4 cars left in the whole garage.

I was worried about the roads driving home, because it was
snowing/raining/drizzling and it was now below freezing. I was most of the
way home when I passed a man on the highway. He was walking in the same direction, I was driving. He was wearing a big yellow rain coat, carrying things in both hands. As I passed he held something up in his arm, and I figured he was trying to hitchhike
with his hands full. I told myself out loud "Yes, I'm a jerk, but I'm
tired and hungry and almost home."

The thoughts "How tired is he? How cold is he?" popped into my head. Then
some passage popped in my head (I'm sure my preacher wife could quote the
book and verse) "That which you do to the least of these, you do to me."

"Oh great," I thought, "now Jesus is going to be pissed off at me
for making Him walk in the freezing rain," The debate went on in my head for about 5 blocks. I cussed my conscious as I turned around to back track.

I was hoping he wasn't there; that someone else had picked him up. But when I
came by, he again held up a large object in each hand. I got kind of scared
as I saw him coming to the car, carrying a big stick. When he got in the
car he brought with him a tool box, a 1-gallon antifreeze jug, and a jug of
liquid laundry detergent, and a heavy stick. Later I realized that the stick was his cane.

He thanked me for stopping and introduced himself as Eddy. He was probably in his mid 50s but looked much older. He was headed up to the 24 hour pawn shop to pawn his tools. ( I checked mapquest - this pawn shop is about 4 miles from where I picked him up. This round-trip would have taken me more than a couple hours, and I wasn't using a cane.) He said he ran out of gas and needed some money. His truck
(that he bought 4 years ago for $100) had run out of gas and he needed to
pawn his tools to get some money. He was very thankful because his feet
were really hurting him.

As we drove, he explained that he was up from Springfiled. He had to
go to the V.A. hospital to get his medical records. He was supposed to go to
a hearing tomorrow to see if he qualified for disiblity. He was a
certified substance abuse councilor and he used to work in a rehab
facility. A few years ago, he was trying to restrain a kid in a fight. He fell and got a spinal injury. Now he has chronic pain and is having mental problems. His
short term memory is gone and he sometimes forgets where he is or what he's
doing. He said he looses things: possessions, money, a car, but was very glad that he was still functioning. For the last few years, he's been working when he
can and pawning his stuff to get money. He was hoping to qualify for
disability so he could have a steady income. He was never giving me a pity
story, just talking.

I offered him the only cash I had -$30 and he was very appricitive. He
said I could just drop him off at a gas station now, he wouldn't need to go
to the pawn shop since I had given him the cash. I asked if he wanted me to wait and take him back to his car, half expecting him to decline and take the money. Declineing an offer for additional help would have confirmed my suspision that this guy was just feeding me a line and wanted some money. However, he gladly accepted the offer.

When we got to the gas station he used a hose to clean out the laundry detergent jug, I realized he had probably dumped out his detergent to use the jug for gas.
I shivered as I saw the cold water from the hose was splashing all over his feet on the concrete drive. I realized that this probably had no effect on him, because they weren't getting any wetter than they already had been from walking in the
freezing rain. I was embarrased as the least I could have done was give him a hand washing out the jugs. As he walked back towards the pumps he relied heavily on his cane. He kept his head and eyes down. The one time we did make eye contact, he forced an embarrased smile on his face. While I was waiting for him to fill the jugs up with gas, I noticed a pawn sticker on his toolbox; this was not the first time he had pawned this toolbox. He got back in the car with the jugs and we were off to his car.

Having to take a long way around, it took about 15 minutes to reach his car. During this time, I listened alot to him, as he told of his job that he used to have, how he was injured, what he was doing to try to make it. I didn't talk much, just listened.

His car had run out of gas on the Interstate, right against a guard rail. When we got back to his truck, I noticed that there was another person in the passenger
seat waiting for him. I wondered what condition this person was in, if
Eddy was the more able bodied of the two. He was very appreciative,
shook my hand, and bid me a "wonderful night" something about camels, the dessert and my journey. Eddy passed a small white box to the person in the truck and then I saw the flick of a lighter. I realized that when Eddy had been in the gas station he bought a pack of smokes, but did not want me to see him slip them into his pocket. "Smoke up," I thought, "you deserve a vice."

I pulled my car around in front of him as there was a spot that I could get my car a little more off the road. I wanted to wait to make sure he got
going. I watched, in my side mirror, as he stood in a lane of the interstate, with eighteen wheelers speeding by, cars honking, and freezing rain falling on him. He was pouring the gas from the laundry jug into a beer bottle, then from the beer bottle into his truck. Aparently laundry jugs are not designed to fit into gas tanks too well. After about 10 minutes he got it all in the tank. He finally climbed back in his truck and flashed his head lights to me. I took off and prayed he made it someplace safe.

I drove home to my worried wife, ate my dried out meal in my warm house, with my three fat kids sleeping in their beds.

This happened about six months ago. I can honestly tell you that I think about Eddy almost daily. Everytime someone asks how I am, I think of him. In just the blink of an eye any one of us could be in that situation - disabled, no memory, loosing things (like a car), pawning and selling your possesions. The strangest thing - he was a positive person. Everyone of us can find something to complain about. Sometimes our complaints seem insurmountable, sometimes when you compare your life to those around you, it sucks. In a flash, it could suck REALLY BAD!

When you ask me how I am, and I say "I'm doing fantastic." or "I can't
complain a bit." You can bet I mean it. By the grace of God, I've got the troubles and problems that I do. So many in this world would give anything to be able to complain about the things that I complain about.

Since my hour long encounter with Eddy six months ago, I've had many people at work ask me how I have such great days. I just tell them that in the big scheme of things, anything I have to complain about is really not that important afterall. I've yet to have someone disagree with me.

Summer Camp

My 10 year old is off at a week long church camp. There is this cool program they use where they take pictures of the campers throughout the week. Then they post tme on a web site. The same web site also has an 'email' program, where you can send a (one way) message to your kid. They print them off and pass them out during meal times. There is a disclaimer on the email thing that says "Do not send significant bad news to your camper through email." I chuckled about how horrible that would be to actually do that. My wife told me that they read the emails before they pass them out. This little fact inspired me to write the following letter:


I've got some bad news to tell you.

Last night I heard the cat meowing, so I got up to let her out. On my way to the door, I accidently stepped on its tail. Needless to say, she got mad, turned around and dug her claws into my shin and wouldn't let go. I started shaking my leg as hard as I could, but the dang cat wouldn't come off. She had her claws from all four feet dug into my shin deep! I started hopping around on one leg trying to get the cat off, but it was hanging on tight and wouldn't budge. As luck would have it, on about my tenth hop, I came back down, but instead of landing on the floor, I landed on your sisters barbie car. Coming down hard on one foot, my foot got jammed under the little dashboard of the car and wouldn't come out. As you can imagine, once I landed on the car, it started rolling across the room. I've got a cat stuck on one leg, and my other leg stuck in a barbie car and I'm picking up speed as I'm rolling across the room. I'm heading towards the wire rack with the board games in it, and as I pass the fireplace, I reach down and grabbed the fireplace poker. I started jabbing the cat to get her off of my leg. As one might expect, this made the cat even madder, but she didn't turn loose of my leg as I thought she would. Instead, she started running up my leg. With every step up my body, she's digging her claws deep into my flesh, so the pain is moving up my body.
About the time I reach and crash into the wire rack, that cat reaches my head. Having nowhere to go further, it clamps down even tighter, right over my face. As I crash into the rack, the board games go sprawling everywhere and I land on top of them in a heap.
Now, I try to stand up, and as I put my hands down to the floor to stand up, my hand goes down through the connect four board. Two of my fingers go through one hole on the board and get stuck. Now I've got a cat stuck on my face, my foot stuck in a barbie car, a connect four game stuck on my fingers.

I stumble up to my feet and swing around, trying to head for the door, praying that I'm going to be able to get the cat off my face once outside. Unfortunatly I've still got the fireplace poker in my hand (the one without the connect four game stuck to it). As you can imagine, when I run past the fishtank, the fireplace poker, hits the side of it and shatters the glass. 10 gallons of water then blow all over the livingroom floor.
Once I finally get to the door, I drop the fireplace hook to grab the deadbolt to unlock the door. Not really paying much attention to the fireplace hook, I dropped it, point down, onto my foot (the one that was not stuck in the barbie car). Now my 'good' foot is bleeding.

I take one step backwards, to pull the door open and I realize the water from the fishtank has caught up with me. The living room floor, now covered in fish water, is quite slick, and I loose my footing and fall forward through the screen door out onto the porch. I'm standing on the front porch in my underwear with one foot in a barbie car, a connect four game stuck on my hand, one foot bleeding from a fireplace hook, and a cat stuck on my face. Now, I reach up , with my good hand, and am able to grab ahold of the cats tail and pull it off of my face. I start yelling and cussing, as I sit down to get my foot taken out of the barbie car, get the connect four game off of my hand. When I stand up, I look up and see that the old couple that live across the street are on their frong porch staring out at me. I just wave and turn around and go back into the house. I spend the next hour scooping fish into a bowl (I got them all before they died), picking up glass from the floor, wiping up fish water, cleaning up blood from my foot, picking up board games. I get back to bed and mom says "Where have you been?"

"I was letting out that stupid cat!" I yelled at her.

In a confused voice she said "But, we don't have a cat!"

So the bad news is - we still don't have a cat (and I'm not planning on getting one anytime soon)!!!!