Resilient

So the other day, after feeling like a leech glued to Maggie and L.R.'s couch (remember I was sick) I decided to stop being a slug and get up and go outside. It was about 11:30am on Thursday. Nice and sunny but still cool enough that one needed a jacket. I was only going to the mailbox and the trash bin so I figured I didn't need a jacket. The apartment complex parking lot was empty so I didn't bother to put a bra on. I was going to be quick right? (sorry, don't picture it, but as my friend Wendi would say, "I'm setting the stage.") Well, wouldn't you know it, the door locked behind me!!!! There I was, white as lightening, in flannel boxer shorts, an oversized pink FSU t-shirt, socks and my Nikes. No cell phone, no money, nothing! When I was a girl scout leader the first thing I taught my girls was to NEVER go anywhere without a cell phone! Not to mention the fact that my grandma is probably doing somersaults in her grave for me going out of the house without a bra. Well, I had to do something. So, I folded my arms over my chest and went to the neighbors' house and knocked. No answer. Damn, where were those college kids when you needed them. So, I went to the next house and knocked. A little old lady pulled the door open just enough to look out and say, "Can I help you?" I humbly explained my situation and asked if I could use the phone. Now, let me tell you. In Florida, especially where I was raised, you don't let strange people into your home. Not only did the lady let me in, but she offered me something to drink and let me sit in her warm living room until somebody could come and let me in. Now that's hospitality. Not to mention brave.

Oh, so the reason for the title of my entry, resilient. That's what Maggie called me when she got home. She said, " You sure are resilient." Yeah, I'm resilient all right, but WHY when things like that happen to me, do I cry? I cried when I called to ask for help. I had the best visit with Maggie but spent most of Thursday crying as I was preparing to leave. Its not like I won't see her again. I guess its my anxiety getting the best of me. I'm such a cry baby that I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to continue our friendship. You know, I've cried my whole life and I hate it. I feel weak and out of control. The funny thing is, if I see someone else crying I don't consider them weak or crazy. Well, that's about it for now. Just thought I'd get that off of my chest. Love you, Janie