Pick up the joy

An actual phone conversation, me in Minnesota, other voice 485 mile away in NE:

Kirstin: Hi, my name is Kirstin, and I'd like an estimate on a whole-house cleaning plus carpet cleaning [for my dad's place, after his auction].

woman at Servicemaster, not in my hometown: Could we start with your name?

Kirstin: K-I-R . . .

woman: I know you.

Kirstin: You do?

woman: I used to work with your mother, and I used to babysit you. You sound just like your mom. I heard about your dad, and I'm so sorry.

The world is a small place--and this is the millionth time it's been brought to attention. This time around, it was me she knew. When it happened a couple weeks ago--when I called a *freaking 800 number* to change the gas payment--the woman who answered was a student of my dad's. Nebraska doesn't have a lot of degrees of separation, but still. What are the freaking odds with an 800 number?

So--after this kind woman helped me out, I talked to my husband, like really talked. We don't get to talk, because our lives are nuts. Then I saw an orchard oriole and his mate in my tree--not your everyday bird, and really beautiful besides. Then I planted flowers and filled bird feeders and ran on my treadmill (hope my boss doesn't see this post--I think today is a duty day). Other joyous things? I don't have to grade papers for three months! I get to be a writer now, and I have tons of great projects to work on. I adore my agent, my editor's thinking about my next book, and my fingers can type. My husband and child are healthy, I have amazing friends and family, and the world is still here (though it may end on May 21, beware).

It's so easy to get lost in the craziness. I do it too much. For today, I'll put down the problems and pick up the joy.