I drove 4 hours to work 6, in the rain, both ways, bleary-eyed from too much pixel-pushing.

Daughter not exactly happy to see me. She had a hard day too, back to school from break.

Same with the son (standardized testing), testing everything on the dashboard of the rental because our car is in the shop ($1000, mostly brakes).

I’m not feeling it. Nope. Not a happy camper. (Like at Camp Grenada).

Doc office said my meds (see Jagged Little Pill entry) would be ready. So I drive to the pharmacy. Yep. Another nope. They weren’t called in.

Here’s where Grace steps in. Or in this case, Abraham (the pharmacist) who smiles, hands me a couple of pills (free) to hold me over so that I can call the doc tomorrow and hopefully they’ll call it in to the pharmacy.

A small thing (well, two small things actually) but enough to shift me and my mood. His smile transfers to me. On the way out, I tell a stranger who cut his hand that I hope it heals well.

And I realize that all of the little cuts gathered by all of us this day will heal as well.