I hate it when it happens.
Just sucks all the air out of my balloon, because nothing good comes out of it.
You’re lying in bed all comfy cozy with your Martha Stewart quilt wrapped around you. Your pajamas are your best friends, and the cool side of the pillow feels like the best place to be at that very moment.
And then you realize what day it is and open your eyes.
You jolt out of bed only to stub your toe on a sharp corner of the dresser and your heart is beating even faster, because now it’s a race. You run out of the bedroom, put on some flip-flops, and grab the first hat in the closet to hide your morning hair.
You make a mad dash for it.
But once you make it to the street, you see it, and it’s too late.
The white envelope with red letters is hanging out underneath your windshield wipers.
You’ve just got a parking ticket.
An $85 dollar parking ticket courtesy of the city. Apparently, keeping the streets cleaned is pretty important. $85 dollars kind of important. That kind of importance really burns me out though. It’s money down the drain, money you never enjoyed spending. Money lost.
And it happens to people at least once a week. I mean there are signs up, but sometimes life it too hectic and crazy, so you forget about the street-sweeper and have a costly surprise waiting for you on the windshield.
This has happened to me and it sucks. So when I went out for my morning run yesterday, I noticed the black Mazda with its own windshield surprise. It made me sad for the owner. So in an effort to spread a little kindness their way, to alleviate the emotional blow caused by this unexpected financial deduction, I thought I’d leave my own little surprise, my own accidentally on purpose random act of kindness.
I put two lottery tickets, scratchers with the potential of giving you 1000 dollars a week for the rest of your life, in a blue envelope. And on the front I wrote: Sorry you got a ticket, hope this helps. I placed it under the windshield next to the ticket and went back home. I wanted to hide around the corner and wait to see the expression of the car owner, to see if it indeed helped at all. But I never saw them.
And even though I didn’t get a chance to see if the lottery tickets made them smile, I still smiled knowing that the bitterness of the ticket might have been sweetened a little by gesture.
The road to 40 is looking a little better, and I have this 40 Before 40 project to thank for it.