Happy

Sometimes the littlest things make me so very happy. Not everything in my life is all hunky-dory. I’m still trying to encourage family to assist me to buy a clothes dryer and that is a monumental fucking nightmare. So, today on my scooter ride down to lunch, I did a little scooter stalking.

That’s where I scooter behind someone walking rather slowly along the footpath, oblivious to anyone else around them. I just pick my time to open ‘it’ up and overtake them and by the time I get to a major intersection close to where I’m going, I’m waiting at the lights and I spy someone I knew from the DAC (Disability Advisory Committee) opposite me and I give him a big cheesy smile and a wave if there is time.

I sometimes imagine that when I see people, I know who I have a history of friendship with and can have a conversation with a few words and facial expressions. I encountered Young John at this intersection and he called out to me that I was making him late and he would call my mother. So, I imagine to others who think all people on mobility scooters or people with disabilities cry into their cups of tea all the time, can’t smile (sometimes) or laugh or be happy.