Piano

“If I replace the purse, will you at least come see the dog at the shelter?” Cara asked.

“All I have to do is visit the shelter, pet the dog, and I get a new purse,” Kim said. “Hmm, you think once I meet the dog I’ll have to take him home. No, ain’t gonna work this time, lady. I will walk out of the shelter dogless and you will owe me a purse.”

“Think I’ll go down to the bakery and stare at the pastries,” Sam said.

“Let’s all go to the bar and order Cokes,” Billie said.

“Anybody hear piano music?” Trevor asked. There was a crude recovery saying, ‘you don’t go to the whorehouse to hear the piano player.’  It warned against putting yourself near anything that tempted you.

“It’s not like that,’ Kim insisted “I’m not the least bit tempted to get another dog.”

Cara just smiled.

Today I’ll avoid temptation.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Doing What I Can

Kim got to my house fifteen minutes later.  From Cara’s description of her lifestyle, I half expected Kim to be wearing nine-inch heels, a leather mini skirt, and a crop top.  I wondered if she’d have one of those little squares vendors used to charge credit cards.  

Kim wore a business suit and flats. 

“I have a dog for you!” Cara said.

“No, no, and no,” Kim said shaking her head. “I’ll already have two shelter dogs and a cat thanks to you.”

Cara pulled out her phone and showed Kim a picture of a longhaired dachshund. Everyone oohed and awwwed.  Cara pulled out a picture of shredded leather that had once been a purse.   “Kors,” Kim said. “No more dogs.”

“With all those pieces missing you could say it was ‘Kors light’,” Sam said.  I laughed, Kim shot me a look.

“I love my dogs, but I’ve done what I can to help out the shelter,” Kim said. “No more animals.”

Today I’ll do what I can.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Patience

Sam lived in Morgantown, West Virginia where he taught Economics at West Virginia University.  He traveled almost two hours north every Sunday to attend his AA home group half an hour north of Pittsburgh.  He’d gotten sober there twenty years earlier. 

“You look great!” Billie said as Sam walked in.

“Where’s the rest of you?” Trevor joked.

\

“How much did you lose?” Roger asked.

“Eighty-two pounds,” Sam said.  “It took me over a year.”  Cara had said Sam was starving himself again.  Had she just assumed that? People who gossip almost always dwell on the negative, real or imagined.

Sam added, “The hardest part was being patient. Those starvation diets are miserable, but you drop the weight.  Losing a little at a time takes some serious patience.”

Today I’ll be patient with my progress.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Foggy

Cara pulled up and parked in the end of the driveway, blocking the sidewalk.  She made an entrance like a tank plowing through a forest in an old WWII movie.  She offered to take Billie to her hairdresser to do something about those bangs.  She asked Trevor how his ‘furniture hobby’ was going.   She hugged Roger way too long.

“There are bags in my car,” she said to me.  Apparently, I was to fetch them for her.

Roger mumbled to me, “Let me get them. I can fix her brakes while I’m out there.”   I knew he was kidding, but I could picture him fixing them so they’d work just long enough for her to get onto the highway.

On the other hand, she was the person who organized fund drives, donated to animal shelters, and ran her church’s charitable events.  She was the one who’d brought us together.  As I’d done a thousand times over the years, I turned to Roger and said, “She has a good heart.”

Today I will look through the fog of someone’s faults for their good heart.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Get Back

When Billie got to my house she hugged me for a long time.  She hugged Roger and Trevor. She held out her arms for Josh, but he held up his index finger and said, “Wait a minute while I double check this card.”  She walked behind him and smacked him on the back of his head.

I said, “You’re in scrubs. I thought you only dealt with other nurses now.  You wear scrubs for that?”

“I got my full license back,” Billie said. “I work in a doctor’s office two days a week.  I get to see patients and I don’t have to pass meds.”

“You gotta love that,” I said.

“I thought I’d lost my license forever, but now I’m back.  They say you don’t appreciate things until they’re gone, but I gotta tell you, you appreciate them so much more when they come back.”

She glanced at Trevor.  We were fairly certain he wasn’t going to work as a policeman any time soon.  He’d shown up to a fire scene drunk, parked on a hose, and tasered the fire chief who told him to move his patrol car.

“Crazy as my wife is,” Roger said, “I was so lucky not to lose her.”

“I totaled two cars without airbags,” I said. “I walked away without a scratch.  I kept full use of my body and my brain. Just dumb luck, but I’m grateful.”

“I’ll win my money back tomorrow,” Josh said as he dumped his scratch-off tickets in the trash. “I’ve got a system.”  Billie smacked him in the back of his head again.

Today I’ll be grateful for things I didn’t lose forever.

.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Let Me Think About It

Trevor and Roger came together.  Josh barely looked up from his scratch-off tickets as they walked in.  Trevor asked Josh if he’d ever spent his whole paycheck on lottery tickets.  Trevor was joking, but Josh said he’d thought about it a lot, but would never do it.

 Roger said, “My dad used to say a lot of what we call thinking is really planning.  He ran a restaurant. Said if you keep thinking about the money in the safe you’re really planning to steal.  You might never do it, but if you do, it’s because you planned to.  When people say they did something on impulse there’s a good chance they thought about it not knowing they were really planning. Along comes an opportunity and they do it.”

“You still thinking about buying another bike, even though your wife would kill you?”  Trevor asked.

Roger smiled. “Every day, all day. Just have to convince her I’m not buying a bike, I’m investing in a Harley.”

I’d met Roger’s wife. “You’re planning your own funeral,” I said.

Today I’ll remember a lot of thinking is really planning.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Driver

Josh was the first to arrive for lunch the next day. I guided him to the kitchen table and got him a cup of coffee. “I’ve got an itch that needs scratchin’,” he said, as he pulled out a stack of instant lottery tickets. With the flattened edge of what might have once been his one-year coin, he began scratching off the little squares.

“You determined to pick up a new addiction?” I asked.

 

“I know what you’re gonna say, ‘if you’ve wrecked five Chevys, buying a Ford isn’t the answer.’ Well these tickets aren’t a Chevy or a Ford. They’re just something I do for fun.” 

“You’ve stopped driving drunk and started gambling sober. It’s like you wrecked five Chevy’s so you bought yourself a boat. You’re gonna crash on this vehicle too.”

“Here we go, ‘it’s not the vehicle, it’s the driver’, isn’t that what you’re going to say next? Well, give it a rest. It’s just a hobby.”  Half an hour later he cursed as he scratched off his last ticket and threw the pile into the garbage.

Today I’ll remember it’s the driver not the vehicle.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Turn or Turn Off The Blinker

I shook my head as the guy who’d gotten two DUIs and his friends left.  “At least they’re not Blinker Light People,” I said to the locker.

 

“What?” the guy three lockers down asked. I told him I was talking to the locker. He seemed in a hurry to pack his stuff and leave.

Blinker Light People, BLPs, spend their whole lives about to make some change in direction. They talk about it, they plan for it, but they never do it. They build up hope in their loved ones until their loved ones realize BLPs are just driving around with their turn signal on.

In some parts of my life, I’d been a BLP, even after I got sober. It had taken me twenty years to lose thirty pounds. Only the threat of diabetes had jarred me into changing my diet. I’d been saying for ten years it was time to put more effort into my writing. 

“Time to turn,” I said to the locker.  The other guy in the locker room grabbed his bag and left, looking over his shoulder at me as he hurried past. “Time to actually change something, do something, head off in a new direction,” I added.

Today I won’t be a blinker light person.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

What a Dumb Idea, Let’s Do It!

I went to the gym.  Over the years, I’d heard some intelligent people spout some dumb ideas in the locker room. Mostly they were the dumb belief notion variety, with a few dumb plan ideas thrown in for good measure.  A guy headed for divorce had said, “I don’t have to tell her I love her. She can look at the house or in the garage or at her own bank account and know that I do.”  Near April 15^th a few years after that another man told me, “The IRS doesn’t bother with guys like us.”

That day the dumb ideas overflowed like a clogged toilet.   A guy in his forties said, “I don’t see how either of those DUIs were my fault.” He was on the other side of the lockers. I waited for his friends to disagree. Instead, one said, “I drive better when I’ve had a few. I pay attention.” Another added, “It’s all about the money.  They just pull you over to collect the fines.” 

Double DUI Guy told his friends he blew a .18 on his second time around. “That’s not really drunk,” he said. I had totaled a car at .16. His friend said, “You can’t trust those breathalyzers.”  The other guy said, “Don’t worry, they’ll bundle them and treat both DUIs as one offense,” referring to one of the dumbest ideas to come out of the legal system in years.

“Want to go to North Park Lounge?” Double DUI Guy asked. They all thought that was a great idea. I didn’t want to know who was driving.

Today I’ll beware of dumb ideas. They tend to be contagious.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Reconnection

That night I got a group text from Cara. Katie’s viewing was in two days, the funeral in three.  She asked if anyone wanted to meet for lunch before going to the funeral home.  Attached to the text was a photo of a salad she’d gotten at a nearby restaurant a week earlier.

‘Let’s meet at LeMont,’ her text suggested.  LeMont, an upscale restaurant overlooking the city, wasn’t anybody else’s first choice.

‘LeMont costs too much LeMoney,’ Trevor typed.

‘How about Denny’s?’ Josh asked. ‘No liquor license there.'

‘How about LeMontrose ’ Billie texted. ‘Ken can make us burgers on the grill.’ Winky emoji.

She was joking, but having everyone at my house would give us time and privacy we wouldn’t have in a restaurant.  I hadn’t seen some of them in a decade.  It was time to reconnect.   I texted ‘Sounds good. Tip your waiter generously.’ I sent them my address.

Today I will reconnect with someone.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

What a Drag

Blondie asked me how my week was going.

“It’s starting to drag,” I said. “I like to train, but I’ve done seven trainings in eight working days. The paperwork is piling up.”

“Poor Daddy,” Blondie said. I shrugged.

“Could be worse,” I said. “I used to should on myself after every training. I’d think I should have said something different, or I should have answered somebody’s question better.  I should have updated my handouts.  I’d get frustrated with the paperwork after the trainings.”

“Don’t do that, Daddy,” Blondie said.

“Oh the wisdom that flows from the girl,” Brat Boy said, laughing.  “Just don’t do that.  Insightful.”  Blondie threw a pillow at him.

I said, “I try not to, but it took a lot of practice to let go of the shoulds and resentments dragging me down.”

Today I’ll let go of things that drag me down.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Progress

When I got home, Blondie was sitting in the kitchen studying for her Economics exam. 

“Look daddy!” she said. “Do you believe it?” She pointed first to the bench on the other side of the kitchen table and then to the sink.

“What?” I asked, not sure what I was looking at.

“Brat Boy not only didn’t leave his smelly clothes on the bench, he put his plate in the sink, right next to the dishwasher. Not in the dishwasher mind you, but pretty close.”

“Shouldn’t you be back at school?” Brat Boy asked his sister.

“Progress not perfection,” I said to Blondie. “He’s making progress.”

Today I will remember the AA slogan: progress not perfection.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

A Wise Guy, Eh?

“Have you talked to Jack?” I asked Cara. Jack was Katie’s husband.  Someone once joked Jack volunteered as a sniper on weekends.  Nobody laughed.  Jack did something for a government contractor. He didn’t like to talk about it. 

“No,” Cara said, “but I talked to his son. He said Jack is holding up well, but his father gave him a half bottle of whiskey and a couple of prescription bottles to hold.”

Jack had never had a problem with alcohol and other drugs.  I guessed he’d had the bottle for a long time, taking a drink on special occasions.  The pills were likely for his bad back.

“He’s not in recovery,” Cara said. “Why would he do that?”

“Katie got addicted after her accident.  She was in a lot of pain.  Jack’s not likely to show it, but he’s gotta be hurting, and doesn’t want to go down that same road.”

Cara laughed. I could almost hear her eyes rolling. “Jack’s the toughest guy ever. He’s not going to get addicted.”  For someone in recovery, Cara could be clueless about addiction.

I said, “Jack is tough, and he knows about addiction. He’s also wise. He’s putting that knowledge to good use, not taking chances.”

Today I’ll try to be wise and tough.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Kindness

“Why don’t you give me your cell phone number?” Cara asked.

‘Because I know you’ll text me constantly with gossip about people I don’t know and pictures of your food, cat, car, and clothes,’ I thought.  I really needed to say ‘I’m sorry, I like to keep my cell phone number private,’ but I didn’t want to be unkind.  I gave her the number, knowing I was going to regret being kind to someone likely to abuse the gesture.

Today I won’t kill myself with kindness.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Being There

I hadn’t expected to hear from Cara so soon, but a week later I got a call at work.

“Hi Ken, it’s Cara,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind me calling you at work, but didn’t have your number.”  I liked Cara, but there was a reason she didn’t have my cell phone number.

“No problem,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Katie died. Her family invited all her recovering friends to her funeral and wake.  I thought you might like to be there.”

I did want to be there, if for no other reason to than to support her family.  Katie’s passing was sad, but I was grateful I could show up when needed. That wasn’t always the case when I was drinking.

Today I’ll be grateful if I can be there for somebody.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

You’re Too Much

The next day I ran into a Cara, a human data base of people in recovery. We talked about all the people doing well. Roger ran a motorcycle repair shop. Billie had gotten her nursing license back and worked with other nurses struggling with addiction.  Trevor made and refinished furniture at a business he called The Strip Club. “Because he strips furniture!” she said. I told her I had gotten the pun.

We talked about people who weren’t doing so well. Josh bought twenty scratch-off tickets a day.  Called it his retirement plan. Kim said she was a ‘free spirit.’ Cara thought Kim was addicted to the danger of sex with people she’d met online.

Sam lost 100 lbs., put it back on, lost it again.  “I had to tell him ‘my eyes are up here,’” Cara said.

“He was staring at your chest?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like Sam.”

“He was staring at the donut on the plate in front of me with the kind of lust only two weeks of fasting and eating bean sprouts can create.”

Later that day I was riding my bike on the Montour Trail, thinking about Josh and Sam and Kim. They all had that tendency to do too much of anything. “It’s going to kill them,” I said to the handlebars.

I had planned to turn around after twelve miles. I decided three more wouldn’t hurt. My mind wandered until I saw the eighteen-mile marker. ‘Might as well do twenty,’ I thought. ‘It’s a slight downhill grade the whole way back.’

Halfway back I remembered the sun sets at the end of the day. I had no lights on my bike. I pedaled the last ten miles like it was the Tour de France.    My legs burned. My shoulders ached. After hours on the narrow seat, I thought I was lucky I’d already fathered children.

“Too much of anything,” I said as I struggled to put my bike in the back of my SUV.

Today I’ll try not to do too much of anything. 

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Power Steering

When I was done writing, I checked my email. Pinterest sent me a message suggesting I might be interested in pins on crocheting, windsurfing, and vintage cars. I clicked on the vintage cars.

Most of the cars had no power steering. I remembered driving one.  Turning the wheel wasn’t hard when you were moving, but not so easy when the car was standing still.

“There’s a lesson in that,” I said to the dog. “When you’re moving, it’s easier to steer in the right direction. When you’re not, it’s harder.”

The dog looked at me as if to say, “I have no idea what you mean, scratch my ears.”

I thought of an example. “If you want to get sober, you move your butt to an AA meeting. They will help you steer in the right direction.” The dog looked unconvinced. “I’ve always liked the cat better.”

Today I will move in the right direction.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Dogged Determination

I sat in my basement chair, trying to come up with a title for my new blog.  My tired mind got stuck on off-the-wall conversations I’d had over the years with people in recovery.  They wouldn’t make good titles:  “The Do’s & Don’ts of Public Urination,”  “A Makeup Artist’s Guide to Hiding Track Marks,” “‘I Pay Your Salary’ and Other Things NOT to Say to the Officer”.  I wanted to give up.

The dog sat at the front door. She started to bark. I called her name. She kept barking. I said, “Come here!” She barked louder.

 “Shut up, you miserable inbred hound from hell!” I yelled.  More barking.

Knowing it was the wrong thing to do, knowing I was rewarding the dog for barking, I trudged upstairs to the door.  She wagged her tail furiously, as if to say, ‘See, I saved you from the two little girls walking by! They might have attacked at any moment if not for my determined barking.’

The trouble with dogs is they’re too loveable.  I couldn’t stay mad at her. I scratched her ears thinking I could learn a lesson on determination from her.  I went back downstairs and finished my blog.

Today I will face my job with dogged determination.

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

With Dogged Determination

There’s Always Tomorrow, Or Monday, Or Next Month, Or…

I ended a blog on a Thursday and thought I’d wait until Monday to start a new one.  I could re-run old an old blog entry.   While I was thinking about which one I might use, it occurred to me I could run a whole series of old blog entries and begin a new one at the start of next month. Maybe even next year.

Or, I could start today.  Otherwise, there would always be a better day to start, another Monday, a new month, after a holiday, on a special day, next year.  I’d seen too many people waste their lives waiting for the right time. Many more had ruined their lives waiting for the next whatever to quit using drugs, get out of a bad relationship, drop a bad habit.

I will start today.

With Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

With Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Starting Over

A year later I told Daniel it was time for me to go.  He wished me well. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I was grateful for the chance to start over.

I thought about all the people in that office who’d started over. Weedman had been given a chance to start over. He’d done well. Drivel started over.  He’d had learned from the best, and became quite the conman. Brittany met someone new, and despite her fear of being burned again, started over. I heard she was happy.  Jackie didn’t really start over. She married again, a rich man with a bad heart.

People get the chance to start over, some make the most of it, others not so much.

Today I’ll make the most of my chances to start over.

Burnout Training ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Burnout Training is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Couldn’t

Jackie resigned soon after the insurance company reluctantly paid off her dead husband’s policy. Daniel had heard from friends in Tampa she was living there, giving rich widows a bad name.

When I told Dr. Deb about Jackie, she said, “How could you poison someone? How could you watch another human being slowly die? Someone you loved enough to marry?”

“I have no idea,” I said, thinking about the months it took for Jackie’s husband to waste away.

“You could never do that to me,” Dr. Deb said, laughing.  “You love me too much. The guilt would kill you, and you couldn’t stand to see the pain in kids’ faces.”

“Probably not, it’s hot as hell in Tampa,” I said. “I couldn’t live there.”  She punched me.  I thought of all things I couldn’t do that people got in trouble for.  Being sober had added to that list. I couldn’t drive drunk again if I didn’t drink. If I couldn’t drive drunk, I couldn’t put other people’s lives in danger driving half conscious.

Today I’ll be grateful for all the things I couldn’t do.

Burnout Training ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Burnout Training is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/

Thirty Years Later
10/2/88 -10/2/18

Today is the 30th anniversary of my sobriety date. The last time I had a drink I made an illegal left turn at 3:00 a.m. and hit a county sheriff. I was newly divorced, deeply in debt, and living alone in an apartment with no furniture and a blind cat.  I had just failed out of graduate school.

Life is good today. I've been married for twenty-seven years to an amazing woman who has never seen me drunk. I have two wonderful children.  I've worked for Greenbriar for almost twenty years. I always know where my car is.

Being sober has taught me to enjoy everything else in life. I highly recommend it.

Let ‘em Eat Cake

Daniel took over when The New Boss retired. His perfectionism nearly drove him over the edge.

One day I was leaving the office late.  Daniel was pacing, paper towel roll in one hand, a bottle of cleaner in the other. Some people eat when they're stressed. Others shop. Daniel cleaned. I asked him what was going on.

“Don’t think I can do this,” Daniel said. 

“Daniel,” I said, “The company is doing well with you in charge. What’s the problem?"

“We’re doing well overall, but we’re not having a good week.”

“Sometimes you eat your cake without icing,” I said. “It’s still cake.”

“What are you talking about?” Daniel asked. “Cake?”

“If I don’t drink today that’s the cake. It’s enough to call the day a ‘success.’ Some days I get a lot done. Something good happens. Icing on the cake.  If you do everything right you might only get cake some days, but sooner or later you get the icing too.”

Daniel smiled. “Kind of a weak take on an old expression, Ken.”

“Cake my friend, it was good enough to get my point across, it was cake.”

Today I’ll be grateful for cake, with or without icing.

Burnout Training ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Burnout Training is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/