The overwhelming anger and divisiveness of America has me feeling down. Usually this column is about what’s irritating me to the point of throwing a hissy fit, and I know there are many irritable pesky protocols and rude behavior out there I could write about. However, this month the bad is weighing on me so heavily, all I want to write about are things that used to make me happy.

Lately I have longed, ached even, for a rewind button. I terribly miss wholesomeness, being a part of a group, time spent around the table with family, being needed and helping others.

Maybe it’s because I am once again an empty nester, and I haven’t found my just-me-and-the-dog groove yet. Sure, we go to the beach, have our walks and he goes to the office with me, but he never asks me how my day was, nor does he laugh.

This month’s theme—#WellBeing—has been a hot topic around my house lately. Why? Because I haven’t been well for the last four months. On May 14, I helped my mother do yard work. I planted tomato plants, dug holes under a dogwood tree to plant azaleas and moved a large cast iron pot, which is really more of a cauldron, across the yard to fill with colorful annuals. I commented on how heavy it was, and she told me her mother used to boil laundry in it. At dark we called it quits and went in for a light supper. By 10:00 p.m. I noticed my back hurt more than being a little sore from all the bending and lifting. By midnight, I was at level 10 pain. With virtually no sleep and in the worst pain I have ever been in, I rushed to an urgent care at 7:00 a.m. They didn’t open until 8:00.

You’ve heard it a million times: Don’t sweat the small stuff. That’s very easy to say, but sometimes, the small stuff feels like big stuff. The key is to try to keep things in perspective.  A traffic jam is small stuff. A traffic jam when you need to badly go tinkle and are at a stand still with no exit in sight is a bit more dire. A traffic jam when it snows, and you’re stuck in your car on the freeway for more than 24 hours and your children are at daycare and you are a single mom with no relatives in town (Hello, Atlanta!) is no longer small stuff—enter some well-deserved sweat. See how perspective changes everything?

Take concerts for instance. I not only enjoy the music, I also am intrigued by people watching. As the main act—meaning the best band—started winding down their playlist, droves of people began to leave. This is when it dawned on me what people are willing to miss out on over small stuff. They were leaving in order to avoid the brief traffic backup getting out of the parking lot. But here’s what they missed: The absolute best song of the night! It’s ALWAYS the encore. Haven’t they ever heard “save the best for last?” It’s the reason everyone goes to the concert. And. They. Just. Left.

Why wouldn’t someone want to look on the bright side, think positive and hope for the best? Research has proven time and again that those who think positive thoughts achieve better health, greater prosperity and more happiness than those who dwell in the negative. However, there are many people who still approach life with a grim outlook—always expecting the worst and even downplaying good fortune. In fact, some people can’t see the silver lining in anything, especially in 2020.

How sad it must be to go through every day grumpy. I say grumpy because I think negative people are grumpy. I started a conversation with a lady at a luncheon, and within 17 seconds, I regretted it. She was a total downer—an energy drain. I tuned her out because her negativity drowned out her credibility. Although I felt for her, I couldn’t tolerate the physical effect her negativity had on me. I should have noticed her name tag before I spoke to her—Eeyore.

In the midst of Covid, which in the privacy of my own mind I am certainly having a hissy fit about, on paper I am having not only a hissy fit, but also a conniption, about clutter. Specifically, the clutter in my garage, my home office, my work office, my closet,
my mail…ok, let’s just agree to say my life.

Clutter and I do not get along, though it follows me everywhere I go. We don’t get along because I am a Virgo, and Virgos demand order. In fact, according to parade.com, “Virgo energy focuses on control, purification and organization. Imagine a bookshelf that needs sorting, and you’ll find a virgo categorizing by color, book title and author, usually just for fun.