"Wherever a man turns he can find someone who needs him." ~Albert Schweitzer

I would like to preface this post by saying that I don't know what in the world I hit, but it erased my whole post. For the love.

It is Saturday night and I am still behind. I am currently folding laundry, catching up on my DVR recordings, and attempting to get caught up on my blog-reading. Don't be jealous. I know it's glamorous.

Like I mentioned in my last post, I am still behind on life in general (hence my lack of comments on your blogs...sorry friends!) but I have got to post about what happened to me today.

I went to spinning class this morning, and when I arrived, the classroom was so muggy that it was somewhat hard to breathe. I'd guess the temperature was about 80 degrees before the ass-kicking class even began. Needless to say, by the time the hour was over, I was drenched. I had sweat dripping off of my chin and my elbows. I had to towel off my entire body before putting my fleece back on. And yet, I stopped on my way out the door to sign up for the same teacher's class on Wednesday....at 5:30 am. I adore her and all, but her classes really are a bit torturous. I'm convinced she puts subliminal messages in her music.

But I digress.

I stopped on the way home at our local YMCA for a flu shot. B had told me that it took him over an hour to get one for L earlier that morning, but I thought I'd at least try. The flu is officially rampant at my work, and it's starting to get scary.

I pulled up to the Y and saw a line wrapping around the building. Sigh. I decided I'd see how long it took and got out of my car. It was in the low 50's today. I had to wait, outside, in the wind and cold, still damp, at best. I kept thinking this whole flu shot idea might backfire when I got sick from being out in the cold with wet hair. I kept telling myself, "Thank goodness it isn't raining." At one point, I actually said it out loud, and only one of the many people around me appeared to appreciate my optimism. Can't say as I blamed them.

I tried a few times to start a conversation with the woman in front of me, but she wasn't taking the bait. She was more concerned in demonstrating her irritation with her four and seven-year-old little girls, who were actually being quite good.

That is, until an hour into our wait when we finally made it into the building. I guess after an hour, she decided that it was socially appropriate to suddenly tell me that she was unhappily back together with her husband after leaving him for a year.

And that they hadn't had sex in over a year.

Because he had genital warts.

Which he said he got from a massage.

(I may or may not have asked in jest, "Just what did she massage?")

But then I found myself counseling this woman on emotional abuse, which she says she is going through. I shared my story with her. I discussed the fact that she didn't want her little girls to end up in a similar situation someday. Immediately, she started speaking to them in a softer, more loving tone.

Perhaps I was put next to her for a reason. If my teeth had to chatter for two hours and I had to hear about a random penis to make a difference in someone's life, I guess it was worth it.