Tuesdays Positivity

Good Morning Friends,

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It’s Tuesday and the week is underway. I hope the week started out well for you. Sometimes it takes a little more effort to make it happen due to outside influences in our work and home lives; but it is what we make it to be…..good or bad. The story below is short and sweet reminder that each of us dictates what our lives will be by the choices we make every day. It’s not about being perpetually happy; it’s about choosing to accept the negative things around us, deal with them and move on to then find happiness about the positive things we learned from the situation.

"The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one to lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours -- it is an amazing journey -- and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins."

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-- Bob Moawad

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Who you are speaks louder to me than anything you can say

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At the beginning of my 8:00 a.m. class one Monday at?University?of?Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV), I cheerfully asked my students how their weekend had been. One young man said that his weekend had not been very good. He’d had his wisdom teeth extracted. The young man then proceeded to ask me why I always seemed to be so cheerful. His question reminded me of something I'd read somewhere before: Every morning when you get up, you have a choice about how you want to approach life that day, I said to the young man. I choose to be cheerful". Let me give you an example, I continued.

The other sixty students in the class ceased their chatter and began to listen to our conversation. In addition to teaching here at UNLV, I also teach out at the community college in?Henderson, about seventeen miles down the freeway from where I live. One day a few weeks ago I drove those seventeen miles to?Henderson. I exited the freeway and turned onto?College Drive. I only had to drive another quarter-mile down the road to the college. But just then my car died. I tried to start it again, but the engine wouldn’t turn over. So I put my flashers on, grabbed my books, and marched down the road to the college.

As soon as I got there I called AAA and asked them to send a tow truck. The secretary in the Provost's office asked me what had happened. This is my lucky day, I replied, smiling. Your car breaks down and today is your lucky day? She was puzzled. What do you mean?

I live seventeen miles from here. I replied. My car could have broken down anywhere along the freeway. It didn't. Instead, it broke down in the perfect place: off the freeway, within walking distance of here. I'm still able to teach my class, and I've been able to arrange for the tow truck to meet me after class. If my car was meant to break down today, it couldn't have been arranged in a more convenient fashion. The secretary's eyes opened wide, and then she smiled. I smiled back and headed for class. So ended my story to the students in my economics class at UNLV.

I scanned the sixty faces in the lecture hall. Despite the early hour, no one seemed to be asleep. Somehow, my story had touched them. Or maybe it wasn't the story at all. In fact, it had all started with a student's observation that I was cheerful. A wise man once said, Who you are speaks louder to me than anything you can say. I suppose it must be so.

Lee Ryan Miller

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?Humor is essential…..enjoy

A man staggered home late after another evening with his drinking buddies.

Shoes in left hand to avoid waking his wife, he tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step in the darkened entryway. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.

A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.

Managing to suppress a yelp, he sprung up, pulled down his pants and examined his lacerated and bleeding cheeks in the mirror of a nearby darkened hallway, then managed to find a large full box of band aids before proceeding to place a patch as best he could on each place he saw blood.

After hiding the now almost empty box, he managed to shuffle and stumble his way to bed.

In the morning, he awakens with screaming pain in head and butt to find his wife staring at him from across the room, and hears her say: "You were drunk again last night!!!"

Forcing himself to ignore his agony, he looked meekly at her and replied:

"Now Hon, why would you say such a mean thing?"

"Well," she said, "there is the front door left open, the glass at the bottom of the stairs, the drops of blood trailing through the house, and your bloodshot eyes but, mostly....it's all those band aids stuck on the downstairs mirror!"

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