The Right Side of the Bed

I cast my vote for waking up on the right side of the bed, every morning.  I've got a choice.  Why not make it a good one?

Karen asked me to watch an Oprah show she'd Tivo'd, about a company president who went undercover for a week.  Each day, he showed up at a different work site operated by some of his firm's 45,000 employees.  He took on the pseudonym, Randy, and performed each job as an employee-in-training.  Besides discovering he couldn't do the jobs very well, he learned that the paper he shuffled in his corner office affected real people.  One of them, a man who had to undergo dialysis treatments three times per week, said he told himself every morning, before he threw off the covers, that this day would be a good one.

The old saying, "I woke up on the wrong side of the bed," reminds me of myself saying "stupid tree" when I hit my head on a branch (see "Taking Responsibility," January 14, 2010).  Taking responsibility begins at home, with me, at the start of every single day.

"Right," says Virginia, smiling big and wide.  "This is me, always happy.  Do you like me?"