'Tis the Season...

A coworker of mine just draws the worst lot, continuously… By worst lot, I mean, WOW (World of Warcraft,) first level bad. She has an extensive family, all very religious, who are heavily prone to accidental deaths, dramatic depression, and suicide, usually while she is on vacation or at crucially important work functions. She is a single mom (admittedly, for a stupid reason, but M. was told that she was as barren as the Gobi by every doctor she’d ever seen up until getting knocked up), and her one (accidental, but sharp as a tack,) son has quite a few health issues. She is the anchor for her crazy family, and through it all, she just keeps going. And going. And going… Like the Energizer Bunny of Religious Forbearance. And now, after rushing her kid, gone cold and blue, to the emergency room yesterday and finding out he has pneumonia, she’s back at work worrying her hind-end off. J., her son, is only 21 months old and has already spent 2 months of that time under 24-hour medical supervision.
To make a long story short, I figured that it would be nice to offer some support. So I e-mailed her this morning, and offered to make a dish that would keep in the fridge and reheat well, or baby sit for one night after Josh gets a little better (I did, wisely, ask for a diaper-changing tutorial first… Mamma didn’t raise no fool). This made me feel an odd sensation that I hadn’t felt in quite some time. I continued the trend upon finding out that another co-worker, L., whose husband is a deadbeat per Echo (another co-worker, so named due to her propensity for liberally spreading around the most obscenely detailed gossip), lives near me. This is pertinent, as she doesn’t drive herself, and is sometimes left without a ride, waiting out in front of the building after her shift for the aforementioned deadbeat. Since we’ll be getting off at the same time every night, I may occasionally be giving her a ride, as it’s really not an extra burden taking her home. All this do-gooding, though, is making an odd sensation start in my chest. Perhaps the beating of my long-dormant heart, bursting in love for my fellowman? Doubtful, but fun to think of that way.
Finally, there is a seasonal kindness I’ve yet to attend tonight, all for the benefit of poor Aphrodite, who is slaving in the kitchen as I write over BF’s big public Hanukkah party. I’ll be sporting her kind gift of last week and its’ accessory, and may even be helping her knock out the last of the cooking she’s been doing all day today to prepare. My work as benefactor is never done… Fortunately, I’ve practically got a promise that O. and I can be each others’ sex slaves after the party is done, ‘cause we haven’t gotten to doink in an entire week. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s likely to be quite messy in a good way. Have a lovely weekend, pets! And please… I was totally being serious asking for gift suggestions. I will love you all so much more if you give me some!