The Kindness of...

I'm completely, almost overwhelmingly exhausted today. Beat. Dog tired. Drained. Weary. Bleary eyed. Painfully sleepy. Nap-deprived. Ready to drop. (And yes, for those of you keeping count, I did in fact check the MWC for "other words for....")

Before you get too sympathetic, let me express that this is (mostly) my own fault. Yes, I admit it. I was one of the many, many women who, late into last night, could be found sitting in a theater watching the New Moon premiere.

Disclaimer: I've always been a Wolf Girl (those of you who knew me when will find it no surprise that I could blame it on David Eddings, waaay back in 1982), so the fact that Jake and his pack of very cool (huge) wolves are prominently featured in this movie (with more than a liberal dose of eye-candy) made this a Must-See-at-Midnight-with-3,000-Other-Crazy-Females Event. Plus, I missed last year's midnight Twilight movie fest (blame Grif), so I had to go to this one. Plus, did I mention that I'm a Wolf Girl? And these wolves were....wow. Seriously.

Second Disclaimer: I could not have known that the theater would have ridiculous technical difficulties and that our midnight movie would, in fact, not start until after 1 a.m. Putting me home near 4 a.m.

So, I'm tired. More than a little cranky, but really just bone tired. And as always when I'm wrapped up in my own little (feeling-sorry-for-myself-cuz-I'm-sleepy) world, the universe sends me a little nudge. A wee message. Gentle reminder. Genuine kindness. From a stranger.

He wasn't homeless. Or crazy. Or creepy. Looked like he was on his way to work. Casual. Nice. I didn't even pass him -- we were more on a perpendicular path with each other as I crossed in front of him. So there was absolutely no reason why I should turn and look at him over my shoulder at the point when I was very nearly out of range for both eye contact and a verbal exchange. But I did. Looked back, that is. For some reason (ah, here comes the coincidence excuse...we know better). And he very clearly looked right at me and said happily, "Good Morning!" Exclamation included.

I replied with a short toss of quick-grinned "hi!" over my shoulder, but kept walking. At this point we were on the same compass point, me walking north, he directly behind me, 10 feet away and heading east. But he kept talking...

"You know, I wanna tell you," he said, stopping in his tracks. "You have a very blessed day." Same smile. Same genuine happiness. Deliberate. Directed entirely at me. Just me.

I couldn't help but stop as well, turned nearly all the way around to look him in the eye, and with absolute honesty and now a huge smile said, "You do the same."

And that was it. He went his way, I mine. But with one unexpected remark, one effort toward a stranger he will probably never again see, let alone talk to, he changed my entire morning. And perhaps my whole exhaustively long day. I still felt the too-much-buttered-movie-popcorn-plus-vat-of-coke stomach sourness. But I felt oddly light, and refreshed. And happy. Why did he bother? Why did I? But truly, what an amazing way to start my oh-so-tired day.

Am I reading too much into this brief, innocent exchange? Probably. Not. Maybe. Doesn't really matter though, does it? It is what I make it. It is what I choose to hear. It is what I take away from it. And pass on to someone else. Like you.

So hey. Hi. Smile. And have a very blessed day. Really. Feels good, no?