Yesterday I was inspired by a story I caught on Facebook about two guys who started a new company making socks and helping the homeless. It’s a must watch. Bombas Video.
I had trouble sleeping last night, maybe because of the race in 5 days and 18 hours (not that I’m counting), or maybe because of the giant skin abrasion on my neck (new nickname “hickey”). Or maybe, just maybe, it’s feeling bullied as a grown woman with enough problems to make Trump and Clinton look like they have it easy.
When I remembered the video on the dudes who are in business to make a difference, I started to doze.
Bees work together. That is the concept behind the company that gives back. For every pair of socks sold, they donate a pair to the homeless. I never knew that socks are the hardest to come by at homeless shelters because they can’t accept used socks. And they are critical to those who don’t drive but rather walk to their next meal. Working together to help each other is such a simple goal but one we lose sight of.
Despite not falling asleep until 11pm, I got up at 5:10am to go on a run with my girls. This 4 miler will be my longest run of the week before the big 26.2. My right calf muscle has been a bit of a jerk lately and it started feeling funky again today. I thought maybe I’m just paying more attention. Regardless, it hurt, so we walked a little and I am determined to roll this leg until the roller breaks.
Fast forward to late morning. I spent hours on the phone, as always. During that time, I spotted a giant bee inside my house. Of all days, right? I thought of an old friend – college roommate – who would have worked to get it back outside alive. But I couldn’t remember her doing so with bees (just spiders) and I couldn’t think of a way to make it happen. This was a big bee, confidently resting at the top of a tall window frame, near the thick curtains. It didn’t move around and I had to wait until I was off the phone to get a closer look. I had this nagging guilt over my goal of killing it, especially after the sock story.
I actually gave Bumbles a chance, thinking maybe it will die a natural death and I’ll sleep really well tonight. It didn’t move, I even forgot about it for a while, then finally took off my shoes, grabbed a wad of paper towels too big for my hands and headed right for the chair I needed to stand on to commit murder.
After gently pulling back the curtain, Buzzer moved a little but didn’t fly away. I felt an adrenaline rush, moved in slowly toward my target with confidence, smashed, then quickly looked at the paper towel. Much to my dismay, it was empty. My friend hit the floor, trying to figure out how to fly. My jump down to finish the job was all about karma. I chose the ballet jump, on the right leg, not thinking of my calf. I suppose a good thing that I got mad because I smashed a little harder. I was swearing about my leg and blaming my new friend.
I asked calmly while flushing, “Why? I just spread the word that you were good!” Then it hit me that I had work to do. Figure out how to really apply the help others mantra. Not with bees, clearly, but I need to be sweeter to those who are much less than that to me… and I need to be happy to be alive. And while I feel a little guilty about it, I will add more honey to my tea.
Happy Monday.
Seize the Day with Sarah 