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Above is a picture of the trophy our local Writers' chapter received for our April win at the state conference. Notice the chip in the small marble block at the top? Notice the chips around the hole in the center of the big block? Notice that the nut isn't holding any of it together? Let's just say that when my husband and I--he holding the cup and me holding the marble blocks--tried to put it back together, comments were exchanged that aren't publishable on a public channel and we were laughing so hard we had tears rolling off our cheeks. For those of you are still confused, let's just say, the thing wouldn't fit and shoving over and over just didn't get the job done. 'Nuff said.

I got my hair cut this week. Short. Very short. My husband says it will grow out. Everyone else says it's cute. My stylist didn't quite do what I wanted--it came out looking more like a mullet than layered curls--so that night I literally took a whack at it and, now, yes, it's very short. It will grow out. I look like a crazed Anime character when I get out bed in the morning.

My computers today at school kept displaying the boot-up icon of a particular program and the icon WOULD NOT GO AWAY. It displayed in FRONT of every other program we pulled up. So there's this 2" by 4" eyesore in the middle of the screens, the children are all, "What's happening? I can't see anything! Mrs. Cannon! Fix this!" I'm on the phone with the tech department (we have an AWESOME tech department and they did eventually fix it) when glory be, the FIRE ALARM goes off for our yearly drill. So much for trying to finish that lesson a week before the quarter ends.

(Stick with me here, I do have a point.)

Last week I went to my trainer at the gym again about my injured foot. It wasn't getting better. She agreed with me it was time to go see a doc. I went to see the doc. He gave me the exact same exam, exact same diagnosis as my trainer. The only difference was his ability to prescribe an anti-inflammatory cream to rub on the sore areas. That has made a huge difference and it won't be long before I'm back out on the road running again. Personally, I think they should give my trainer a raise and the ability to prescribe this stuff 'cause she's awesome.

(One more. Promise I'll tie it together! Promise!)

I pulled into the gas station to fill up my car and a lady nearly sideswiped me to pull into the same slot I was heading for. The patient person I am, I simply drove around the parking lot, chose another station, and parked. When I inserted my credit card, the machine wouldn't take it. After three tries, it locked up and insisted I go inside. The nice lady at the counter (I could tell she was frazzled from a day of unhappy gas customers) said I had to prepay. So I did. When I reached the said amount, it wasn't enough to fill my tank, but I was too tired to go back in and pay more, so I simply took my second receipt, closed everything up, and drove myself home.

THE MORAL OF THE STORIES...Bad stuff happens. Deal with it. Accept it. Go on. Don't whine. Don't get your panties in a wad because the world ain't fair. There's always someone who's story is worse than yours, so be thankful for what you have. I may have injured my foot, but I have two relatives right now that are about to LOSE their feet due to health issues. I may have my lesson interrupted at school but at least we didn't have a real fire and lose the lives of children. Keep perspective. Be thankful for what you have. Even if your trophy is broken, you have it. Cherish it. Because you earned it.

Is that hot chocolate I smell?