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Three revelations came to me this morning when I went for
breakfast at Burbank’s
Hometown Buffet.
The first was that it had all the makings of a picnic in
just about any Los Angeles
County park.
The second revelation was that it’s possible to be in a
restaurant, with my back to the crowd, with screaming kids around and not have
a PTSD attack of paranoia and panic.
The third revelation was more of a confirmation of a
definition of “happy” that I had stumbled upon on Friday morning during a
counseling session.
It would take me a while to figure out the second
revelation.
The third one came to me when after I left and was driving
to my office.
The first one became obvious fairly quickly — only because I
was alone, I was in no hurry, and I took the time to observe things.
