Exiting the Office Depot, I saw a sign: “Now Hiring Smiling, Friendly People.”
I wondered if I would pass the “Smiling, Friendly” test.
I debated this on my way to the car. Talking out loud, to myself.
“You flunk!” my examiner shouted. “Smiling, friendly people don’t talk to themselves. They have people who listen to them. People who like them, people who call them friends. Because they are . . . smiling and friendly. Ergo, you, talking to yourself in our trash-strewn parking lot, cannot be smiling and friendly. Next!”
I could not argue with his logic, specious though it might be. I did not feel smiling and friendly. I felt bereft.
Ten days ago, my daddy died. If you’ve been wondering what happened to this blog and the rollout of stories, there’s your answer. Facebook has been wondering. “Your posts are down! Your reach is down! Your comments are down!” their emails scold me.
Well, I am down. Blue. Sad. Not feeling smiling and friendly.
Next week, I hope to return to my enthusiasm. In the meantime, listen to some of the old stories. Catch up on what’s already out there. Or go chastise the Office Depot for being so upbeat or Facebook for its lack of understanding. Take on the relentlessly happy and ask them for a smidgen of space for grief.
Remember: You cain’t do nothing with love