Last night the phone rang. At 2 AM. Thank GOD it was a wrong number. Calls at 2AM cannot possibly be good, at least in my life. Ed McMahon is not calling to tell me the prize van is on its way. If I am getting a genius grant, it is coming at a civil hour. I don't have a secret lover calling to whisper hot sweaty things in my ear. Anyone calling me at that hour is calling from a hospital, or from a police station. So the adrenaline surged. Okay, not enough to get me out of bed and answer the phone. My much quicker husband took that on. But my heart started beating a mile a minute, and my brain was instantly awake. AWAKE. Who was hurt? Who was in trouble? Please please please let it be okay. And then I heard "You've got the wrong number. There's noone here by that name".
Worry turns to anger, skipping relief entirely. F***ING DRUNK -- learn to f***ing dial a f****ing phone!!!! Now I wonder, why wasn't I happy? Me and mine were safe, at least for another night. The scythe had whiffed. Thanks to adrenaline, I had many uneasy hours to ponder the question. My guess is that thankfulness is a much longer road to drive. Anger, worry, rage, doubt -- they are all shortcuts, quick easy jaunts to make.