I was feeling in the dumps. It’s amazing how we become dependent on our appliances. The dishwasher had failed, and the warranty company had said a repairman would be there next Monday, between eleven and three. I waited all that time, and at 2:45 I got an email that the repairman would be there. I called up, and a receptionist told me he had been at my home and found nobody there! “Well, he didn’t ring the doorbell,” I said.
“He did,” she replied.
“Then he’s a liar.” I was angry. She said he had found no car in my parking space, and then rang the doorbell. I knew what had happened. He saw no car in my parking space and took off.
I was depressed for yelling at the receptionist, and causing her to defend a lazy technician, and losing my cool. As I sat in my study, I saw a cricket going diagonally northwest across the patio door screen. I marveled at this insect who had learned to use his hind legs alternately over some thousands of years. Soon he was out of sight.
A little later, and twenty-four inches lower, he came back, with his left hind leg missing. I snapped out of my depression. Here was a creature who had lost his left leg on an afternoon’s stroll, going about his way, and I, who had merely missed the use of our dishwasher, was depressed. I had to straighten that discrepancy out!
(P.S. The afternoon light came over the screen at such an angle that I didn’t see his left hind leg. He hadn’t really lost it. But I gained something.)