Today in the woods an old lady called me an asshole for not greeting her properly. I smiled, made eye contact and nodded. I did the best I could to keep my dogs out of her way as we passed on the trail, but it wasn’t enough. As I moved along she yelled back at me, “You’re such an asshole because you’re from Oregon! If you were from Washington you’d know how to be polite!”
Makes perfect sense, right? If only I were from Washington. And maybe I am an asshole because I couldn’t help laughing at her. How absurd that one would think blurring out chirping birds in the peaceful forest to yell obscenities at a stranger is more polite than smiling and attempting to tread lightly? To each his own.
The mere fact that I was on a trail at all today, after what felt like an eternity of dark grey and rain, brightened an otherwise depressing week. And honestly that old lady’s ridiculous sense of the world helped snap me back into perspective. I had a bad week. Like a really really bad week. But it’s over. The storm yelled at me, beat me up and got me down for a little while. But it passed.
The sun is back, even if only for a few minutes. The birds are singing. The dogs are napping. Life is good.