So I am watching an old DVR of an In Plain Sight episode and the recurring theme is "Everything matters." My first instinct is to quibble with the assertion. So, not true, does it really matter whether I have real half-and-half in my coffee, or go for the fat free half-and-half (whatever that really is)?
OK, I like cream in my coffee, but I'll settle for half-and-half -- 9 calories versus 20 calories per cup -- three cups a day -- 365 days a year = 12,000 calories. That matters.
My biggest recent indulgence is a sudden craving I have developed for the large cookies-and-cream milkshake from Chick-fil-A (700 calories) and I'm not even going to do that math.
At a recent conference I attended, the organizers handed me a stamped addressed envelope with a reimbursement form inside and reminded me to mail it as soon as I got home. So, I didn't have to locate the form online, download it, print it, find an envelope, address said envelope, stamp it, and dig all my crumpled receipts out of the bottom of my purse. Just put them in the envelope, fill out and sign the form, and voilà I get my money by the end of the month. Three steps, not ten. That matters.
I've finally committed to flossing every night, in spite of resisting and making excuses for years. I want to die with teeth in my mouth, so I hope it matters.
I recently retired from teaching for a second time, this time with some betrayal and bitterness. I wrote several exit speeches in my head, went so far as to compose the email I didn't send. And, yet when I had my moment, I smiled and accepted the goodbye present, silent. That matters.
My cowardice will eat at me for a while. I will even feel guilty that I didn't warn the teachers I left behind to be less trusting. All my anger is still pent up inside and I'm grinding my teeth. BUT there is absolutely nothing I could have said that would not sound petty, whiney, self-serving. My silence embarrasses me. It's not who I thought I was. That matters.
Everything matters.
