Speed bump therapist

While reading a blog of one of my Facebook friends I was struck by a question she asked and decided to reply. Julie, that brave unbalance woman, asked, "What makes you happy?" This is my reply from my seven-hour shift of yesterday's labors at the Good Earth.

I walked along a speed bump yesterday. There has always been something therapeutic about that for me and as my boss seemed to be breathing down my neck in disdain, making a hard day harder, I ask to step outside to gather shopping carts. If asking to do something that is not your initial intention is lying, then I lied and I’m not proud of that. But I needed to breathe the stale air outside and pace on the raised pavement painted yellow just to feel it’s roundness through the soles of my brown flip flops. I can’t say that it made the day any better. It didn’t make my boss love me, or solve my school dilemma, or provide money needed for the $88.00 electric bill, or anything else weighing on my mind. But for a small moment, just seven inches off the ground I felt a little bit happy. . . Happy to just walk along a speed bump.