I hobbled into my physical therapy appointment this afternoon feeling 90. I realized, as I sat there wondering why on earth I felt so terrible, I hadn’t taken so much as a sip of water all day — nor had I taken the pain pill I loathe. (and take as rarely as possible!)

It’s safe to say I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. Like most days of late, I woke up mourning the loss of my dad, and feeling pretty overwhelmed with everything I have on my plate.

My physical therapist had the nerve to put me on the treadmill for a whole eight minutes. With every step, I inwardly complained. When time was up, she moved me back to the area where we’d be working. It was then I learned she was juggling two patients simultaneously, and frankly, I wasn’t happy about that, either.

As our session began, she demonstrated a few exercises for me to start while she talked with her other patient — a nurse with an injured shoulder.

“Hey, girl! How was your day?”

“Well, I feel like I’m ready to kill somebody.”

“OH. Well, I get that. I’ve been there! What happened?”

“Well, I had two patients today who had very important milestone appointments to check on their babies…the kind of appointment that goes more in depth to be sure the baby is okay…and the scheduler that booked both those appointments didn’t block nearly enough time. Those aren’t appointments I’m willing to rush, so it made things a little stressful. Then…,” she hesitated…”a patient had a miscarriage. That was hard.”

I honestly didn’t hear anything she said after that. I thought about that mama who probably woke up this morning thinking all is right with the world. How far along was she? Had they picked out a name? Did she know whether it was a boy or a girl? Was it her first?

For some reason that led my thoughts to how I respond to people. This is a crazy busy season. Everyone seems stressed, and I can only speak for myself when I say I’m often in such a tizzy I’m paying little attention to anyone with whom I interact.

That grouchy grocery store cashier? What’s her story?

The waiter who barely spoke two words to us at lunch…was that just poor service, or something bigger?

My husband was quiet as a mouse this morning when I finally made my way down to the kitchen, and I got mad…because…well, I’m not entirely sure why I got mad. I guess I thought he was mad, so I…

It’s ridiculous, isn’t it — how we let our minds work us right into a bad mood, thinking only of ourselves instead of others?

I lay there diligently continuing my PT, and decided I needed an attitude adjustment.

Life might not be what I envisioned during this season, but how I respond to it…well, that is entirely my choice.

Perspective matters.