Lucky the frog
He’s been through a lot with me. I strangled him when I had a panic attack during my liver biopsy. I woke up from my endoscopy to find that he had been given a smiley face band-aid. Four CT scans, numerous PET scans, two endoscopies, one colonoscopy - he’s been with me through them all.
I seriously considered changing his name after I heard the words ‘pancreatic cancer.’ Jinx or Curse seemed more appropriate. I didn’t have the heart to go through with it and, looking at him sitting on the packing crates, I know that he is indeed Lucky.
Let me rewind a few months. It’s December 18th and I’m sitting in a meeting about the new office building. Someone is complaining about the cube size. Someone else is concerned about having a longer commute. For ninety excruciating minutes I sat there quietly, dumbfounded by the fact that, in all likelihood, I wouldn’t be alive to pack up my desk and move to the new building. I was a cancer newbie, still digesting my diagnosis. Someone said the move was only eleven months away - a lifetime away to me.
So here we are, November 29th (almost a year later!) and Lucky is helping me pack up my cube. I actually put him inside a crate, next to my stapler. When I started to close the lid, he looked up at me in disbelief. His eyes said it all. How could I possibly treat him like an ordinary desk accessory when he helped me get through the roughest months of my life? As you can see, I decided to that he was too precious to be packed away.
The point of my story is simply this:
My coworkers are thrilled about the new building, but I know their excitement doesn’t compare to the pure joy that I feel when I think about it. Lucky and I have been through a lot this year and I know he’s going to be happy in his new home.

Do you know why I love putting? In general, most people suck at it. It requires patience, practice, and perseverance - a combination that is difficult to sustain for an entire round. No one expects you to be good at putting. I don’t have high expectations when I walk onto the green and I’m usually lucky if I finish a hole with only three putts. The best part of putting has to be the little happy dance people do after sinking a long one.
What’s next? Will this be the last time I replace the toilet paper roll?