The Unwasted Dollar.

Last Wednesday, I pulled into a 7-11 to put gas in my car after work.  There I saw a sign for “$1 ANY SIZE COFFEE WEDNESDAYS!”  I didn’t need coffee, since I brew my own at home each morning, but I figured I would save myself a minute or two on Thursday.

I filled the very largest available 7-11 coffee cup with delicious Columbian roast, adding no cream or sugar.  I figured Sara and I could split it into two mugs and spruce it up the next day.

When I walked (my tiny self) up to my 3rd floor apartment, I was lugging an umbrella, my work laptop bag, a purse, a lunch bag, my cell phone, the key to my front door, and the now-filled, very largest available 7-11 coffee cup.  I managed to carry it all meticulously.  I successfully unlocked my front door by awkwardly balancing some objects between a crooked shoulder and tilted chin and others on a bent knee.

I tripped over a package in my doorway that I could not see over the mass of perfectly-balanced stuff.

The contents of the no-longer-filled, very largest available 7-11 coffee cup:

  • seeped into my entryway carpet
  • repainted the surrounding walls
  • sprayed my clothes, shoes, and legs
  • bespeckled my work laptop bag
  • splashed new color onto BOTH sides of my front door (I hypothesize that it was swinging closed while the liquid was mid-splash)
  • and enlivened the appearance of the mysterious package itself.  It turned out to be a birthday present for me, a (now-spotted) novel.

But I did not waste my dollar that day.

I burst into a fit of laughter the likes of which has never been seen when I (1) created such a large-scale, accidental mess and (2) am in only my own company.  If someone else –Sara– laughed about it, I might see the humor.  But ordinarily, this little catastrophe might be enough to ruin my day and cause a meltdown.  I would mope and begin to ponder all other things that stress me out, ranging from hangnails to family drama in an endless downward spiral of icky self-pity.

Instead, I laughed at my own absurdity.  After all, I could have just made two trips upstairs or set some objects down to unlock my front door.  It all boiled down to silliness.  I cleaned up the impressively distributed mess with a smile on my face.

And in that moment, I discovered that I am an entirely different me.

This time last year, stress was killing me.  Unfortunately, we can’t always control whether or not a “stressful situation” occurs by making better decisions about how much to carry.  Someone wise told me that the only things I have the absolute power to change are my mind and my reactions.  And so I did – albeit, gradually.  I committed myself to becoming happy when I created The Smile Scavenger blog on June 20, 2012.

I succeeded.  It took $1 worth of spilled coffee for me to realize that last Wednesday.

After so many life lessons, I do not have a “happy bubble” left.  But now, at last, I see the world as it is -good and bad- and I am a happy person.

Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot. -Charlie Chaplin

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7 thoughts on “The Unwasted Dollar.

    • Thanks Bonnie. It feels wonderful. I almost said it’s like I’m not even me anymore, but it’s more like I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. I’m glad you get it! I hope you’ve had moments like this too (though perhaps a bit less messy).

  1. I read this when you first posted it, Amber, but I had to dash off before I could respond. It is really wonderful to read how you can now laugh when something happens that would have sent you into a meltdown before. I love to laugh at the stupid little things that go wrong throughout the day; my husband is tortured by them. My stress level is much less than his. I dropped a dozen eggs on my way into the house the other day. Ten of them broke. I thought of you. I laughed at the eggs. ;-)

Feedback makes me smile! :)

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