Sometimes good deeds are things we'd really rather not do, but we do them anyway because someone has to and it's the right thing to do. And in the end, you feel good for having done your part for the betterment of society. Like chaperoning field trips (bus load of kids at 1000 decibels), or volunteering to be program chair for your local writers chapter even though you know the pressure will be on every month to schedule interesting and informative speakers that will keep members coming (so far I think that's been going pretty well, lol).
Today, though, I did a good deed for myself. I had a mammogram. Didn't want to. Could think of a hundred other ways I'd rather have spent my morning, but I stifled the urge to kick and scream and off I went. After all, I'm forty-cough-cough-something now, and after a certain age it just doesn't pay to ignore certain realities.
Now, mammograms always tend to bring to mind the iron vise attached to the end of the worktable in our basement years ago. I mean, who came up with this torture device? A reincarnated prelate from the Spanish Inquisition? Can we say, "pancake?" Because sometimes that's about what you feel like when you're done. Luckily not today, though, since I had a tech who seemed to have done this before.
When I left, I have to say I felt a sense of having done my "civic duty for self." Not to mention feeling a sense of control over my life, because when you take action you get answers, and when you have answers you can make a plan, if you need to. This put me in such a good mood that when I rewarded myself with a trip to Borders, I hurried on the way in to open the door for the elderly lady with the cane, didn't get upset when I learned that Toni Lea Andrews's new book, BEG FOR MERCY, hadn't been unpacked yet -- I vowed I'd be back in a day or two -- and didn't begrudge the woman who sort of cut in line ahead of me at the register to see how much money she had left on her gift card. I made sure to treat myself to a Maple White Mocha Latte, and on the way home I listened to my favorite song on the Garden State soundtrack (Simon and Garfunkle's The Only Living Boy In NY) twice. I'd done a good thing. For me. It was a good morning.
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