I arrived home tonight in my semi-usual foul mood wondering what the hell I’m really here on earth for; an almost daily thought for me these days.
A crappy commute with overwhelming traffic, a job where customers never respond to email and never answer their phones, mounting bills with interest and a car that still isn’t fixed.
A garden that never seems to grow no matter how much I water it, a lawn that’s close to dead and another 20 things that I’ll just refuse to list. (okay, my crumbling front steps is first)
I’m bitchy a/f and think that I’ll be going to bed this way.
(Pamela channel surfs and starts watching the 2018 ESPY awards, really?)
Then I watch Jim Kelly accept the Jimmy V award for perseverance.
I watch and halfway through, I start to cry for the guy and then think about my chronic daily bitch fest.
And then I think: Jesus Krispies, Michael, you little whiny bitch.
There are moments in life when we realize that ‘said’ higher powers are listening.
This was one of those moments.
Regardless of what you may personally think of Jim Kelly, his life and his story gave me some serious pause.
My Man was listening (and watching) from upstairs and didn’t like what he saw in me as of late. And He would be totally correct in His assumptions.
I was being a whiny little turdface in need of a proverbial celestial dope slap.
That slap was graciously granted courtesy of Jim Kelly. And the ESPY’s.
So thank you, Jim Kelly.
And the ESPY’s, I guess.
I seriously needed that slap.