Awww, please ignore yesterday's rant.
That's one of the things about the internet...you toss something out there and there it is for the entire world to read. The poison pen is just as bad as the unbridled tongue for they both emanate from the same place...the heart!
And now I'm eating my words.
I got to thinking...that young woman at the checkout stand at the store? The very fact that she called me "Sweetie" tells me that at least she looked at me. At least she "saw" me...saw me standing there with a scarf covering my bald head, looking a bit puffy in the face...looking exactly like what I am at the moment, a female of grandmotherly age, obviously going through chemo. And she responded by calling me "Sweetie", with sympathy.
My friend Debby sees it from the other side of the checkout counter. Debby has been through the chemo routine herself and she would have spotted me a mile away. And she probably would have looked at me in sympathy and called me Sweetie, too. (Hi, Debby!)
With all the things in the world to be worried about, being called "Sweetie" probably figures pretty minor in the grand scheme of things, wouldn't you think?
If I see that young woman at the store again...I need to "see" her for who she is. A young woman working a job and trying to be kind to her customers.
I think I'll go mumble to myself for awhile. And say my prayers. And try to get the log out of my own eye.
*walks away mumbling, embarrassed, and contrite*