Some days just start out wrong. Friday was that way for us. We went here and there and everywhere but nothing was working out. For example, at the township offices we found out that you can only get dog licenses there January through March. After that, you have to go downtown to the county building. Little Levi is still not legal. Seven stops that day and none of them worked out including the place where we wanted to eat lunch was closed under unusual circumstances.
Having our appointed rounds of errands go off into never-never land it was time for a decision. 1) We could go home grumpy and out of sorts because we'd have to spend another day in do-overs; or 2) we could declare a vacation day and go home after doing something fun. We picked door number two and went to a small town museum that by rare coincidence happened to be open that day. We've wanted to go to that museum for three years but they're only open by chance and circumstances like days when the town is celebrating something special. Bingo! Our chance we had come to tour the place and by the circumstances of everything else going wrong, we had extra time on our hands to do just that.
Life is that way sometimes. You plan. You hope. You take the steps needed to get you where you want to go and a gutter ball goes down the lane leaving all your pins still standing. Those are the times when I ask myself my favorite coping question: "Is this a disaster or an inconvenience?" Sure, it's awesome when things go just right and all your metaphorical pins go down in one powerful smack of the ball. It's almost as satisfying when it takes a second ball to get the job done. But I'll let you in on a little secret: if you live life without keeping score, you can still feel good about the gutter balls of life, about changing directions in the middle of the stream. Yes, it would have been nice to get all our errands done on Friday but if we had, we would have missed out on our impromptu mini vacation and going home feeling like we'd scored a happy memory instead of going home grumpy. ©