One of THOSE Days

I was having one of those days. Those whiny days when your life is
simply just not as it should be.  I'm insecure about my job security
with all the talk of buy-outs within the field. I return from photo
assignments wondering if I have any idea what I'm doing. Is that a
nice picture? Or does is suck?

I don't know how to do what I do.

I am bad at these days because whenever I'm in a slightly more
emotional state (and really, today was NO biggie), I lose perspective.

This reminds me of the time, years ago while in college, when I
mentioned in passing to my friend Suzanne that I hate my legs. She
responded with "How could you hate your legs? They get you places, you
can dance on them..."
It was the perfect Suzi-Q response. And it stopped me from bitching
about my legs.

I am feeling something relevant to me; unimportant. Various people in
particular who, of course, the reason I want to be important to them,
likely, is that I appear to not be important to them. The million
dollar question is, if you are not important to them, why is it
important to you? Why give a shit?  For some reason, it has always
been important to me to be important to those around me.

I feel unimportant.
Unacknowledged.
Blocked.

While she wasn't a close friend lost, I was uplifted a bit today by
and interaction with a three year old.
I was sent to a sketchy area of the city to find people out on their
porches before heading into their homes for the night (because it's
too dangerous to stay out).

I found a man and his granddaughter. After spending some time with
them, taking some pictures, the little girl sat down next to me. She
tapped my bare forearm with her pretty, tiny, brown-skinned finger,
"How come you have all those polka dots?"
"They're freckles. I've always had them" I told her.
"Oh," she said, then reached up and started playing with my hair, "Who
did your hair? I like it." she pointed-out that it was all caught up
in my camera strap and gently began to release it with her little
hands from it's minor tangle, " Do you live near here?" she asked.
"I live about five minutes from here."
"You came ALL THAT WAY to take pictures?!" she was astonished.
"I did."
"Where's your husband?"
"I don't have a husband."
"Oh" at which point she disappears into the house, returning a moment
later with a brush.
"No, no" says her grandfather when he spots her, "You leave her hair alone"
"But, I like it." she says, and then, "Where's your child?"
"I don't have one"
Her eyes grow big, "You don't have a husband OR a child?"
"Nope!"
Grandfather chimes in "She's independent!"
"I have a dog though" I tell her.
"Oh, " she thinks,  "Well, I like dogs!"

I have a dog.
I have legs.
I am uplifted by a three year old.
I am fine.