March 4, 2011
“A warrior takes responsibility for his acts, for the most trivial of acts. An average man acts out his thoughts, and never takes responsibility for what he does.” ~Carlos Castaneda
Tuesday evening was a fun get-together with friends for pizza. It is liberating and healing to laugh and socialize in a ‘normal’ setting–especially if pizza is involved. I talked a friend into splitting a sinfully decadent chocolate dessert called ‘Chocolate Temptation.’ (Worth every fat gram and carb!)
The first to leave our party came abruptly back into the pizza place–an eye witness to a hit & run to a parked vehicle in the parking lot which happened to be mine! She was a good witness–getting the man’s phone number and name from the counter employee as he was a pickup order. Apparently he was fashionably coordinated in red crocks with a matching red shirt.
I can tell I am getting old. The responding officer looked more like a cub scout than a policeman, but he was eye candy. Investigating the damage, my rear tail light lay in splinters on the asphalt, grooved punch in the bumper, and a silver trim something lay in solitary twisted carnage in the dimly-lit crime scene.
I guess I have been fighting serious health issues for so long, I felt nothing looking at the broken shards littering the ground–knowing my car can be repaired. My broken health is an ugly duct-taped temporary medication repair of questionable efficiency. My body is totaled. Engaged in a daily battle with Stiff Person Syndrome, I need to have the mindset of a warrior. Life priorities refocus with clarity–important and trivial, permanent and temporary.
Outside of his garrish attire, Mr. Red Crocs is an irresponsible and average guy. I wish SPS would take a lesson from our pizza-toting flight perp, don some red crocs and go on the lam. No chase would ensue.
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