LUCK

On Monday, I find myself crying on a work call. The person on the other end of the line is telling me how uncertain she is to start this new part of her life — how, in school, she was once someone special, but now watches her peers at work go on to start their own businesses while she’s left in the dust looking for her old self, working under someone else’s name. I believe you can do it, I tell her. I know what you can do, and how hard you can work. And then I put together a game plan. 

I cannot tell if she’s crying because she’s comforted or overwhelmed, but my tears are partly sprung by guilt. What privilege I have to chase my dreams unfettered, and how slowly I seem to be going about this. 

*

Tuesday is a big day of deadlines and meetings, and deadlines pushed because of meetings. My body is going through yet another period of inexplicable inflammation — at this point, the only way to get through the days is to remind myself it could be so much worse, though realistically my heart sinks whenever someone exclaims, “!!! What happened to your (body part here)?”

But the reminder remains true, right? It could be so much worse. 

*

On Wednesday, we take our sign language test and pass! What sweet relief. To celebrate, we head eastwards from the south of the island, and land ourselves a rollicking hotpot supper. The restaurant celebrates at least 4 birthdays during our time there, and each time W joins them in song, word for word, clap for clap. Her exuberance makes me laugh. What a precious spirit. What a precious friendship.

What precious, precious days.