Looking for a Good Friday

It’s been quite a week.

Whenever a holiday rolls around, it seems like time moves twice as quickly and my list of things to accomplish is twice as long. In the case of this week, we are down a day as well. I really enjoy Easter for a number of reasons, and look forward to it all winter long.

I wanted to be mindful of the religious meaning of this week; to take things in stride and be flexible when something popped up. But for some reason, it was the “Let’s See How Much Shit Sarah Can Tolerate Week”. Unfortunately, I didn’t get that memo.

Monday to Thursday was filled with tests and challenges. Kids who were seeing how far they could push each other, and me; days at work that went from slow and monotonous to being assigned a mountain of work; barely speaking to my husband, and not because we didn’t want to talk, but because he was just as busy as I was. Trying to sympathize, empathize and take the high road.

A friend of my was caught in a bind regarding the care of her horses, and being faced with no alternatively, I offered to help her out. It was something I found myself looking forward to! Which did help somewhat with the ongoing frustrations of the week.

Each time I looked at these events as challenges I could deal with. The kids were tired, and coming down with colds so I tried to get them to bed sooner. Well, I tried – they argued and resisted and ended up going to be a the regular time. I tried to think of improvements at work that could fill my down time and worked efficiently when the work load suddenly doubled. I gave a lot of thought to how we could accommodate the various schedules over the Easter Weekend so that everyone was happy.

That’s when things really started to hit the skids.

Every now and then, I find I go through a couple of days, or in this case – a week, where I could say “Hey, How are you today?” and the person I’m speaking to would hear “WHAT THE F— IS YOUR PROBLEM?” I’ve been told this is a problem for Virgos, so when I saw it starting to rear its ugly head, I made a point of gearing down and measuring my words. Sympathize, empathize, high road…… Rinse and repeat.

Yeah, that bombed.

So by Thursday afternoon, two people thought I was a Grade A bitch, ironically, the two people I had gone out of my way to accommodate. Massive FAIL. In both cases, the exchanges ended with me removing myself from the conversation so I didn’t say what was really on my mind.

On Thursday afternoon, I’m fighting my way through the throngs of people. People who leave their cart in the middle of an aisle in a grocery store so they can look for FRIED ONIONS THREE FREAKIN’ AISLE OVER! People banging in to you, and your cart, which is overflowing. People who think the day before a long weekend is the BEST time to catch up with their neighbors, five feet inside the store doors.

Throughout my tour at the grocery store, I noticed two women; one about my age and her daughter, who would be the same age as First Born Son. I noticed them look at me in the meat section. Then again in the frozen foods. I could feel someone looking at me a couple more times, and thought I was getting a complex.

Finally I navigate the humanity that is a grocery store at 5 p.m. on Maundy Thursday, and I end up in the line behind these two women. They look at me, look at each other, and then START WHISPERING.

Folks, I nearly lost my mind right there. After trying so hard to not feel negative, to try and look at things from other peoples’ points of view and trying help out friends and family who have need help throughout the week – only to get slammed, I was ready to put my fist through their carton of eggs. Very. Ready. “WHAT THE F— IS YOUR PROBLEM?” was on the tip of my tongue – and I would have meant to say it!

As we crept toward the cashier, and I started unloading my groceries, when the mother spun around, leaned in towards me and said,

“Your hair ROCKS! I LOVE it!!!!” with the biggest smile I had seen all week. The daughter, behind her, was smiling and nodding vigorously.

In a instant I felt horrible for being such a mental bitch to her, combined with a mix of feeling flattered and pleased, because one does not expect to receive compliments, never mind in public. I gave her a big smile and said thank you. She and her daughter continued to converse, but now I could hear some of it, “awesome” came up a couple of times.

Once I got in my vehicle, I thought about how things can spin on a dime. All week I had worked so hard to make everyone else happy, and  not a single person recognized me for it, or in fact, told me I had made things worse. Here, I go about doing my own thing, and a complete stranger comes up to me and gives ME a compliment; something that I myself have made a habit of doing to other people.

And the hair….

2013-03-28 17.11.51


Totally ROCKED!!!!

Happy Easter, Happy Passover!




One thought on “Looking for a Good Friday

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