Today was one of those terrible, horrible, rotten, no-good days. I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. I even screwed up making coffee. Twice.
So when I pulled up to the gate this afternoon and handed the guard my ID and she asked me, "How are you today?" I answered, "Fine, thank you," even though I didn't really mean it. And I asked her, "How are you?" because I am polite, and because I really do care, in a small way, and strive hard to recognize that it is a person and not an automaton with whom I am dealing.
And she answered, "I am blessed. Thank you for asking."
And I drove away thinking, "Maybe this isn't such a terrible, horrible, rotten, no-good day after all."
Because, in the final analysis, I am blessed, too. Big time. And my grumpiness is an ungrateful forgetfulness of that fact.