It's because we're short right now. We go home wondering what we missed, and we remember just before we fall asleep. Sometimes it's little, like forgetting to fill somebody's water. Sometimes it's bigger, and we make a phone call.
Sundays really are good days at work. There aren't a thousand people in the nurse's station, and the patients are just a little bit sleepier and more content than usual.
And now, I will tell you something big: my feet hurt, and when my husband touches them, I wish he would not stop ever.
Can you imagine no pain? Can you? And I just wonder about it, because don't you think pain and joy are relative? I know what my feet feel like after work. And they are swollen. I think I am too young to have swollen feet at the end of the day. And so, when Thomas touches my feet, there is a vast difference. The difference is what makes me know anything. Bad/Good; I don't want to move ever/Please don't stop ever. So, what about a place where there's no contrast? There's just good. Do do you think we'll be desensitized to how great it is? I don't think so, because I think there will be different rules. But it makes you think. Maybe we will not forget what was.
You know, so many things are relative. Like people think it's cold outside. And it is. But they are miserable because of how cold it is. And I don't think they have any right to be miserable at the cold. They don't know what it's like to have your best mittens not be warm enough or feel the wind through snowpants, or not be able to breathe because the wind chokes you. And it's only cold for such a short time here.
Someone checked my car and said, "You need a new battery, especially for the winter." I thought that was really strange, because it's not cold here. Cars start in the winter. Maybe two days out of the year, you might have trouble. But everything will be cancelled on that day anyway.
So the moral of the story is: we don't have anything to complain about ever. Only, we don't know it.