The Second Tuesday

I asked Morrie if he felt sorry for himself.

"Sometimes in the mornings," he said. "That's when I mourn. I feel around my body, I move my fingers and my hands- whatever I can still move- and I mourn what I've lost. I mourn the slow, insidious way in which I'm dying. But then I stop mourning."

Just like that?

"I give myslef a god cry if I need it. But then I concentrate on all the good things still in my life. On the people who are coming to see me. On the sotries I'm going to hear. On you- if it's Tuesday. Because we're Tuesday people."

I grined. Tuesday people.

"Mitch, I don't allow myself any more self-pity than that. A little each morning, a few tears, that's all"

I thought about all the people I knew who spent many of their waking hours feeling sorry for themsleves. How useful will it be to put a daily limit on self-pity. Just a few tearful minutes, then on with the day. And if Morrie could do it, with such a horrible disease...

~Tuesdays With Morrie, by Mitch Albom

... stupid PMS, i don't want/need this right now...

*sigh* Ok, my few minutes are over.