Perspective

Last week was bad. Long hours at work. Little sleep. Too much to do on the weekend to get proper rest. Wah wah wah.

This week didn't start off any better. First thing this morning, I got a meeting notice to discuss a mistake we'd made in a file released to the printer on Friday. We released more than 100 files that day--no mention of them. We released two with errors. Those we had to talk about at length.

When I walked out for lunch (eschewing the lovely can of pineapple chunks at my desk), I was in a fairly miserable mood, and the gray, drizzerable sky above me seemed to agree.

As I walked along the busy downtown street, head weighed down with self-pity, I saw a man walk out of a shop head of me. A young guy--no more than 30--wearing a baseball cap, short-sleeved shirt and shorts. Because he was wearing shorts, I could see he was walking on two prosthetic legs, and the envelope he was holding was clasped by a hook rather than a hand.

I looked down at my own body. Malformed as it may be, I have all my limbs, and on most days they function reasonably well.

No matter how bad my day or week is, it could be a whole lot worse.