A 24-hour stretch starts with receiving an unexpected, late afternoon email from someone who argues you were the victim of a lie. You later try to fall asleep while impossibly attempting to comprehend what you read.
The following morning starts with a different issue and a live chat with a customer service representative incapable of comprehending your most basic question. He simply types responses from some consultant’s script. You try calling in instead and speak with a sweet woman named Rose. But Rose, despite her kind demeanor, wastes 30 minutes of your time by displaying a keen inability to explain anything clearly. You finally reach a supervisor who appears to set things straight. However, you can’t genuinely enjoy the moment because you wonder if the company hired the cheapest, inexperienced labor it could find and tried to disguise it as customer service with little to no regard for your time and how it might impact your day.
A relative then stops by and shares how a dispute over dog leashes at the park led a stranger to question your loved one’s intelligence while raising the possibility of slapping his face. You then turn your attention to a couple of phone calls with an attorney about the email from the night before. Part of the conversation focuses how even football can’t help you escape reality because your favorite team has played dreadfully for the better part of two decades. Next, you briefly believe a third-party might provide assistance over that surprising email until she explains she can’t help unless you need a referral for another attorney and assistance gathering some documents.
By this time, you barely realize your children have returned home and everyone must now prepare for a musical concert back at school. You take a few moments to remember everyone you believe has done you wrong and you curse yourself for being the nice guy because, at this point, you’ve concluded nice guys clearly finish last. In your mind, you play out how you might have handled that debate over dog leashes yourself. You decide it’s time to toughen up and find ways to fight back. You park in the school parking lot and the first person you see is the parent you have come to know as the one who drives with apparently little regard for any other vehicles. By the time you walk into the school auditorium, you assume the older gentleman staring at you is preparing to unleash some untold anger.
Instead, he notices your Northwestern University sweatshirt, explains he is a fellow graduate and shares a fun story of his days on campus. You exchange first names, shake hands and discuss education, reminding you some people are nice and reasonable. The choir starts to sing holiday songs and suddenly staying forever angry starts to lose its appeal.
The 24-hours ends on a mixed note when you find yourself eating a plate of chocolate cake and watching Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2, which you are now seeing for the second time. You search for the lesson in the last 24 hours and realize it’s not clear. The human race just confuses us.
