..Forty-Four Sunsets..

motivation

I do believe in a karma of sorts. There is the smokers' karma (where, if you yourself are generous with your cigarettes, bumming them off of other people will inevitably be more successful), the road rage karma (maintaining your own equilibrium and control will, more often than not, rub off on otherwise-frenzied drivers), and I'm sure others that I'd think of if I spent more than a few minutes on the subject.

Maybe it's less of a karmic thing and more of a sociological/psychological phenomenon, like the idea of smiling so that you--and, after a while, those around you--feel happier.

That said, my own motivations for doing nice things for people don't necessarily come out of a desire for favors in the future. That would, of course, make me sort of an asshole and render the nice thing itself a bit moot.

Which is why it pisses me off so much when other people do it.

I've spent a lot of this week listening to people's problems and trying to pick them up. There seems to be a lot of work-related stress in my roommates' lives and so I've done my best to lift their spirits with falafels, backrubs, car rides, and bakery care packages.

Maybe it's because I've been trying so hard to be creatively kind this week that it was such a welcome surprise when one of the bakery regulars, who owns a vintage clothing store that's going out of business, told me to come over after work yesterday to see if there's anything I wanted to have--much like the guy who gave me those jeans a while back, this man said that I was always such a positive energy and a friendly face at the bakery, so he wanted to do something nice for me.

Something nice. For me. What a lovely gesture. I happily went to his warehouse after work and spent a half-hour or so browsing the stacks. Found a few items and went to the front, where this guy was packing up, to ask if it was okay if I took them. He said sure, then mentioned that he needed some extra help the next morning and would I mind loading the truck for several hours in exchange for those clothes?

It's not that he asked me for help that I mind as much as the fact that he waited until the clothes were in my hands--and I couldn't very well put them back--to ask me to trade for them. I mean, what the hell. Made me mad.

I suppose that the point of all of this is that if you want to do something nice for me, then great. I appreciate it. If you do that nice thing, however, and expect me to be your bitch afterwards because of it, well, THAT I have a problem with.