Found Objects

"I am going to need this for my playdough."

It isn't the first time a heart has been carelessly thrown in the gutter. It won't be the last. But we rescued it and Xyla plans to make good use of it.

I don't know quite how to describe today. It was a bit of chaos. Slimming down some stock footage. Duplicating, searching video. Preparing for the big move. (Not me, in case you wondered. I signed the longest lease I have ever heard of.) I impressed two people with my ability to hoist a large box of beta tapes onto my shoulder, haul them to the dumpster, open the dumpster and drop in the tapes without losing the box. Of course if they'd been opening doors and the dumpster . . .

I had to wade through the thick river of emotional footage of people's homecoming surprises and pick out shots that match a specific script. That is the hardest thing for me to do. It exhausts me when other people are terribly emotional. I know how horrible that sounds but when you train yourself to wait for the tear . . . and pack up the gear and head back to air it at 5, 6, 10 and 11. You have to be able to shut it all off. You have to know what makes other people feel those feelings, without feeling them yourself.

There are thousands of stories like that one and if you take the time to get all emotional about it yourself, well, you are going to miss your deadlines and then you won't have a job. I guess that was what made me good at the job - not being emotional enough but knowing what makes others emotional. I say exhausting because it's not like you can get the beginning of the hug and cut then run. You have to stay for the whole hug . . . or kiss. . . or exaggerated for the camera awe-strike. Some people never want to let go. But you have to stay for the follow through. If your anchors don't get choked up a little - you didn't get it all. Enough about that.

Why am I telling you this?

Recently I was awarded an "employee of the month" type award. I really appreciated it. It's a bit of a popularity contest only quality of your work oriented. It comes with a parking spot right next to the door. It is really nice to get to park in the reserved spot because it means that when you come back from lunch - no one has snaked your space. (The people who work across the street are horrible about doing this.) I park in backwards because you can't see around the evening traffic to get out the way I get out unless you are parked backwards. I got in, and pulled forward just a little to indicate to still-standing cross traffic that I would like to cross the line and go the other way. The woman immediately noticed me and made a space in the lane for me to cross. This is two way traffic. I looked right, I looked left, I looked right again and started to cross the lane and got 3/4 of the way into the lane I was going to travel in and someone in a white Toyota was driving the wrong way in the lane. It happens sometimes when people decided that since they aren't exiting the gate that they don't have to wait in line to make the left turn just before the intersection.

Roads wet and black ice in places it is amazing that the person was able to stop just before they hit me, t-bone . . . driver's side. They turned their wheel right (keeping in mind that there is a long line of cars on that side) and narrowly missed three cars on that side by "correcting". I pushed the gas pedal and got the back end of my car out of the way in time for them to slide by the rear of my vehicle.

Then whoever it was kept driving in the wrong lane.

All I kept thinking was, "I have a three-year-old waiting for me. What would her life be like if she never saw me again because this guy had to save five minutes in line. Would he think it was worth the risk then?"

I so desperately wanted to go around the corner and track him down (there are only two places he can go) and ask him that. But remembering the guy who wanted me to get out of my car and fight him because I waved him around me in the drive through lane while I took a few seconds to situate my kids cup in her cup holder before we drove away from the store, I decided there was potential that not seeing my kid again is totally still a possibility at that point, if I make a poor decision. So I drove on to pick up my daughter as always. No way I was going to miss that today. Not when the choice is mine.

As I put Xyla in the car she looked at me and said, "are you happy mommy?" I said, "Yes, Xyla - I am very happy." We got in the car and headed home. She rescues the heart from the gutter. As we are walking inside she says she wants some hot chocolate - with three (holding up four fingers) marshmallows.