Attitude Adjustment

I forgot my work keys today.
The bunny stinks a lot.
I need to clean out her cage. But it's cold out.
I found what I thought was a bunny pellet in the bedroom.
It turned out to be a roach.
The roach was alive.
The lightbulb is out in the bathroom.
It's really cold (for Florida) here.
The house was 62 when we woke up.
I have a cut on my foot.
I snoozed too long and didn't have time for a warm breakfast at home.
Forgetting my keys is a pain.
The sun was in my eyes when I was walking this morning.
The tile floors are cold when it's 62 in the house.
I was barefoot.
I only have one good fleece to wear in this weather.
I had to wait in line in front of a pushy person at the ATM.
When we turned on the heat this morning, it spat a hefty layer of dust over everything.
I got an email that was annoying from my former second job.
I have to do the taxes this weekend.
Forgetting my keys means hoping that the classrooms are unlocked.
Forgetting my keys means I have to ask Tina the office manager to let me into my office. I feel embarrassed, even though Tina's as nice as can be.

After unlocking my door, we chat a minute. Tina tells me she's battling cancer. She found out in October that it's in her stomach and intestine, twenty years after surviving colon cancer. So that's why she got that really short buzz haircut in the fall. Tina's taking "the burning pills," called that because they burn up her insides. One of the tumors is shrinking. But they just found two spots on her breast. I hug her, offer to go with her to appointments, bring food, cover for her at work. She declines. I tell her I will pray for her often, and if there's anything I can do...

Suddenly I am flooded with gratefulness. A little dab of conviction, and lots of gratefulness.