Pursuing More

The last little bit of warm weather is lingering, and I wanted to know how many more days I had to drive Barbie (my convertible) with the top down, so I hopped on the internet to check the weather. An ad caught my eye.   You know the kind.   There on the right-hand side of the screen.   They flash, wiggle and nearly beg for your attention.   I am usually annoyed by them, but this time the attention getting method worked on me.   “Senior Singles”   the banner read.   “Find your perfect mate”.   I’m not looking for the perfect mate, I’ve got mine, but I noticed the faces of these “senior singles”…they sure looked younger than seniors… and their ages….. This has to be a typo… 42..43..46!   Seniors?!   So much for checking the weather, my mind was on to other issues.   Since when is 40 considered senior?   When did this happen?   How can this be? Who gets to decide when a person enters senior-hood? The fact that this bothered me so much…bothered me. Why did I care? Age is only a numbe

Yesterday while doing some cleaning with a few kids at the youth center where I work, one in particular kept stopping work (my pet peeve) to ask questions totally unrelated to the work we were doing. Then, to top it off,   two of his cousins came in needing change. These boys know they are not supposed to be in the building unless they are working when it is not open. Irritated at being interrupted once again, I spoke the first words that came to mind. I told the boys (without asking what they wanted) they could not be in there, we were not open, and we need to finish our work. Period. Now, I did not yell, but my tone was not kind and I should have stopped to ask what the situation was. (His grandma wanted to give him some money for food and games for the rest of the evening.) And I could have communicated the same thing in a kinder way than speaking through my irritation.   Funny thing is, when someone else communicates in that way, I immediately notice. And I think to myself “