Purely Complicated

“Hey, killer,” I said, distracted from my task as Sprout wound his fluffy body around my ankle while I sat at my desk. I reached down and scooped him up, settling him on my lap where he curved warmly into my abdomen. I smoothed his coat, having missed him while I was traveling and knowing Chienne is painfully jealous of late. I felt him purr even as I heard the pleasant rumble and paused to rub under his chin and murmur to him while I uploaded one last file.

“So, pretty guy,” I began, moving my gaze to meet his green one, “what’s up with the torture of rodents?” I’d found and discarded another carcass this morning. This one differed from the last in that there was only the back end of the unfortunate mouse. When I shared with Friend that I wasn’t eager to find the front, she proposed the Sprout may have eaten it. I wasn’t sure if that was more relieved or disgusted.

I’m stuck noticing dichotomies lately. Much as I like contrast and gravitate toward interesting clashes, I find myself both disturbed and soothed if such a state is possible.

One of my colleagues is from a country in eastern Europe. He is painfully elitist, frustratingly superior. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes over and over again, lest I turn into some spinny-eyed freak while he talked at length about any given topic and how incredibly informed he was about that very concept. Yet when we arrived at the car after the day of meetings was over, he opened the door of the car for me, waited until I was settled and closed it gently before taking his own seat behind a different door. Polite? I wondered quietly, thinking him rather sweet, or did he think I was too dim to figure out how to make my way inside the car without help?

If you’ll remember, I was a teensy bit frustrated at the way the fence/flat tire incident was handled. But once Home Depot became involved, I was immediately contacted from the store (and later when someone read my blog) and the money was credited to my account and two people had called to apologize within a week. So while I was upset by the initial contractor response, I was thrilled by the way the situation resolved. (Which, by the way, is why I would recommend contracting through one of the big stores. Their commitment to customer service and leverage over smaller companies is impressive. I was very happy with how it all played out – yay for Home Depot!) Hence, the crappy stuff happened to showcase how well this company cares for customers.

I think another colleague is a great guy and has treated me with nothing but respect and kindness. So I blinked in surprise when he mentioned how "stacked" a woman in a different office is. I was scolded pretty firmly in a meeting when I glibly said something about it all being about money. I was told that we cared about quality and science and all that is good and right! I sighed and stayed quiet, sending a look of gratitude across the table when an older man said, "If it won't sell, we won't make it." I grew mildly frustrated when a friend blew me off for work, even knowing I'd likely have made the same choice. People aren't really bad or good, I thought with some dismay. They're more complicated than anything.

As I smiled at the cat curled on the bed, I walked in they toy room and asked him how he liked the Care Bears. I obligingly rubbed under his chin when he arched his head back, looking around for signs of his last bloody victim. Seeing none, I asked him if he ever felt guilty. If he felt at least a twinge of pity for the sweet mouse before dragging the body home. Probably not, I decided when he blinked at me sleepily before stretching and easing back into sleep.

“Hi, Little One!” I said last week when I called. “I got your letters in the mail today.” I smoothed my finger tips over the scraps of lined notebook paper. Between the uneven edges were little scribbles made in marker. “They’re beautiful,” I told my eldest niece. “I’m going to hang one on my refrigerator at home and one at my desk at work.”

“OK,” she said happily and Mom told me how she beamed with pride.

“Thank you very much,” I said, loving her and the treasures that had arrived in my mailbox. “I love you,” I added softly and she immediately responded in kind before hurrying off the phone.

“I’ll go make you more pictures,” she called over her shoulder before handing the phone to my mom. The arrived today – four pieces of paper folded into tiny packets. I smoothed them carefully and smiled over the squiggly lines that marched neatly across the page. Pure goodness is tough to come by, I thought as I placed the new art on my refrigerator. But I have some to look at every day.