After days like today I must remind thy own self: It’s only a job. It’s only a job.
I’m reminded to recite this mantra each time I now look out my window. My neighbor across the street either suffered a nasty fall or had some type of surgery. He no longer can walk on his own.
In fact, his wife just slapped a hand written “For Sale” sale in the front window of his red and black pickup as he looked on, seated in a lawn chair and wrapped in a light blanket.
Their granddaughter just asked, “Why are you selling the truck?”
I couldn’t hear the response, but I’m sure it wasn’t a comfortable one to deliver.
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