There are three things I hate to do:
1. Talk to strangers. Esp: Try to convince strangers to do things.
2. Talk on the phone. Esp: Talk to strangers on the phone.
3. Fill out written forms. Esp: Unfamiliar forms.
I needed to ship dozens of boxes containing thousands of dollars’ worth of geiger counter components out to where J&H now live, and the assignment involved all those things. Also I have no practical means of transporting three pallets worth of boxes, which meant calling in favors to expedite a project I didn’t want to do in the first place. Also it’s winter, so how wet and/or muddy would you like those boxes to be when they arrive? How deep would you like me to get a neighbor’s flatbed stuck in the mud?
When the phone started ringing daily, with someone half a continent away wanting to know what was going on with his boxes and why is this taking so damned long, I began to remember in a visceral way why I moved to the desert in the first place. Also why I used to hate cell phones. Seriously, I was no good at this before I spent nine years alone in the desert.
But this morning, at least, the most complicated part of the project moved forever out of my hands. Three pallets, delivered to the drop-off point.
And virtually the moment the last pallet was under a roof, it started to rain again. So somebody up there likes me, even if I may have strained a relationship or two down here.
By doing something, no three somethings that you really didn’t want to do for a friend says that you are one of the good guys. I’m sure that this has helped with any bad karma that you may have picked up over the years.