All week long I’ve been concerned about what I was going to write in today’s blog. At the end of each day I’d consider all that had gone on, and none of it seemed blog worthy. My week has been filled with uninteresting duties and details—my routine work and volunteering responsibilities, laundry, groceries, bills, cooking, cleaning, blah, blah, blah. I was officially voted in as property manager of the four-unit commercial condo complex where I do my hairdressing. That role requires that I collect monthly dues and pay four bills—PG&E, water, landscaper, and insurance—big whoop.
And then Mitt Romney made yet another off-handed gaffe. His blunders are all over the internet and news. We see over and over again how casually he proffered the $10k bet with Rich Perry during a national debate, how almost $400k annual income from occasional speaking engagements is dismissed as if chump change, he earns almost $60k every single day from capital gains and yet he brushes that off as if it were dandruff on a black jacket. His latest, that the poor of this country are of no concern because they have a “safety net,” is outrageous because it’s like saying a crippling car accident is no big deal because the people had car insurance. Huh? I think Romney is suffering from an inability to distinguish trash from treasure.
It’s not my intention to editorialize on Romney. What I want to say here is that his error has helped turn my own thinking around about the week I’ve had. For the last seven days I’ve been hunting for something big to talk about. I’ve tossed off the richness of my life as if it were some inconsequential accounting. I’ve traded gratitude for greed. Greedy for that big-fish story, I’d lost sight of the immeasurable blessings I receive daily.
I live in a house that has absolutely no bullet holes in it. If I’m sick I get to go to my doctor, not the emergency room where they by law have to attend to everybody regardless of ability to pay. I go to the grocery store and buy what I want, not what I can afford. I have a loving husband who I can depend on and friends who smile when I come through the door. My professional neighbors trust me with the condo association’s money. I remember a couple of years ago when I converted my guest bedroom into an office for myself. I sold the twin mattress in it to a Hispanic woman who was amazed that it was only my hubby and I living in this 1100 s.f. house. I have an enviable life. It’s not the details of my life that matters, it’s how I feel about them. Whether I’m in an 1100 s.f. house or an 11,000 s.f. house, I need to remember how fortunate I am.
What I have is golden. Thank you Mitt Romney for reminding me to count my blessings, because not doing so, is hell.
And you, my dear, are among my many blessings. Thanks for all your support and friendship.
It’s true about counting your blessings. It will make you a happy person no make what you don’t have/have in your life.