"And it came to pass..."

When I was a teen and facing the usual assortment of teenage woes, Mrs. Watts, a friend of my mother, gave me a piece of advice.

The advice was as follows:

"Remember the Bible keeps saying "and it came to pass". That is always true. What ever comes, will also pass. If you hate what is going on, don't worry, it will pass. If you love what is going on, it will pass away too. Nothing going on is forever, everything comes and then goes away."

That's the gist of it anyway.

This week remembering that observation helped a lot.

Over-the-top stupendous rudeness to me at my profession forum had me a hair's trigger from sending a scorched earth caliber email to the offending party, who really should know better, but does this kind of stuff routinely.

Bernie said I shouldn't take it personally, that it is just the way the person is.
Others later confirmed that indeed, the person's behavior was SOP (standard operating proceedures) for that person. Rude, and wrong, but just the way this person does stuff.

Then I was involved in a presentation. I wore my brand new dusty rose pink suede skirt that fit, and wound up sitting a chair where water had been spilt. I didn't notice, and presented with a huge wetspot on my backside. Insult to injury, I looked stupid, or unfortunent, and had a ruined skirt to boot.

Ever notice once you get angry, you find more things to be angry about? Well, I scratched together an encyclopedia of irritations and mads. Bernie lucked out, he had to go out of town.

But being the sweetie that he is, he brought me flowers when he came home, and a sympathy card, and gave me hug. How about that, flowers from him when someone else had done me wrong.

And so it came to pass that my work week was over, my husband was home, and the skirt stain is only noticible in certain lights if you stare at my backside really hard.

And unless you are Bernie, you had better not. Stare at my backside, that is.