As I get a glimpse into other people's lives I wonder if there's something about them that I can use to figure out if they are happy. I try to figure out if all these sour looking women I deliver to are happy. Have they given up on trying to find happiness? Do they just have a different definition of happiness? The woman with an accent and a mustache who's husband didn't kiss her on the way in the door, does he still love her? Does she love him? Does he step out on her? Would she care if he did? The lady with the immaculately clean house and perfect decor and tasteful (still alive) houseplants, is she happy? I wonder if I walked through these people's houses if I could divine from their possessions if they're happy. I wonder what the woman with the tired eyes looks like when she's smiling. I wonder how many of these people settled for their lives with cars and houses and children and spouses. How many wanted to travel? How many wanted to do something great and never did? How many feel trapped?
I spent last night asking all of these questions to myself at each delivery. Well, except the delivery where they weren't home. That sucked. Apparently they called from two towns over and planned to get there before I did. They didn't. They threatened to call corporate even though Mama Bear offered to give them the pizza for free (which they don't deserve!). Speaking of Mama Bear (and Little Yellow), I think they were being extra nice to me last night because I was fighting tears all night. Maybe they realized that I wanted to be there; it was the best place for me.
I made $28 off of 8 deliveries, a crappy $2.21 per delivery.