What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours, brought the sun and the flowers, where there used to be rain. What a difference a day makes, There’s a rainbow before me, Skies above can be stormy ….
As I was driving to my new place of employment yesterday morning, I was feeling ever so grateful. I stopped for gas and then I stopped at Starbucks for my favorite sipping beverage (I make it last all day) and for the first time, since the CD player in my car quit, I actually brought along a Bluetooth speaker ( I was given for Christmas) and was able to play the favorite music that I downloaded on my iPhone after Lexie talked me into buying Apple Music with 3 months free. I was bopping along to Renee Olstead (singing What a Difference a Day Makes), sipping my Mango Dragonfruit and coconut milk refresher and feeling grateful to be alive and able to drive myself to a squeaky clean new job. No one has held this position here before so I guess I am defining it, as I go. I was grateful I had a car and that it had gas in it. I was grateful to be able to purchase something from Starbucks (everyday). Grateful to have nice clothes to wear. Grateful to wake up in a bed that is so warm and comfortable and have access to a shower with hot running water and luscious smelling toiletries from our favorite scented boutique. I arrived at my inviting workspace. I was told there were no stipulations on personal effects at your desk, so you can bet I took advantage of that. This office doesn’t know what hit it, but I’ve been getting a favorable response.
This morning was a different story. What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours…..When I left home things were looking calm and quiet. I stopped at Starbucks once again and proceeded out to highway 22x, heading for Stony Trail. As I neared Stony Trail North it appeared that my windows were very dirty. I could barely see through them. Naturally, I turned on the window washer but that clean window lasted about 30 seconds and I wondered why it was still so hard to see. As I proceeded down the highway, I realized that it was actually sleeting out and the other vehicles were spraying my window with muck, therefore, visibility was compromised. I could barely see my own lane. I pressed on. I was concerned that I might run out of window washer fluid before I arrived at my destination. The further North I went the worse the sleet or snow was getting and my wipers were moving nonstop. This actually wasn’t helpful because they just seemed to be moving the muck around as opposed to removing it. I maintained my position in the middle lane – not too fast and not too slow. Who am I kidding? There were drivers in the right hand lane that were passing me. Next thing I know I am wedged in between two semis that were keeping my windows perpetually covered in slush and whipping stones out onto my windshield. My fists were clenched around the steering wheel and I was leaning forward looking for a clear space of window to see through. I am sure I looked like a tentative little old lady that should not possess a driver’s license let alone be speeding down the freeway with the big kids. I hadn’t even touched my drink or the bagel that I had toasted to eat on the leisurely (ha!) drive in. Who can eat at a time like this? I was a wreck and finally spied my turn off. Grateful to be on the homestretch. And IT happened. My left leg started to cramp up. NO…..not now, not here. I’ve never had one these heinous leg cramps while I was actually driving and seriously??? I’m going to have one now? I admit, I started to panic (OK – hyperventilate) AND pray. Those leg cramps are so painful, there is no way I could drive with one. I was looking for somewhere I could turn off to get out of the car to put pressure on the impending cramp. While at the same time praying that it wouldn’t happen. I am embarrassed to admit I was struck with fear. I may have been crying, as I often do when leg spasms are involved. I remember thinking ‘this was not going to end well’. But I pressed on, what else could I do? I reached down and undid the zipper on my knee high boot on the leg with the cramp thinking I would relieve some pressure but that only made it worse. That’s when I realized that the tight leather around my leg was the very thing that was keeping my leg from going into a full-fledged spasm. Praying and clutching, I finally approached my final turn off before the office parking lot. That’s when I started to thank Jesus as I knew I was out of danger now. I pulled into my parking spot and breathed a sigh of relief and another and then another. I finally took a long sip of my Starbucks.
And my drive home will probably be uneventful and I will be extremely happy because after five long days of work, I get a weekend. I remember that these circumstances never phased me when I was 25 or 30. The working five days a week, I mean. I actually used to think that I had really hit the jackpot back then. A company has hired me and in exchange for showing up every day and doing whatever they ask me, I’m going to get a paycheque deposited into my account every two weeks, with which I could buy shoes, have a place to sleep and store my clothes, eat food, go to a movie, book a flight. I was deliriously content and naive.
The Red Plaid Apron 