My daughter says “I’m sorry” all the time. She’s standing in front of the sink, washing dishes. We have a dishwasher but my grandson’s bottles get washed by hand. Something about dirt collecting in the nipples. She’s busy but I want to throw something in the garbage. I step up beside her and say, “excuse …
I hate it when I’m standing at the cash register, having finished the transaction and the cashier hands me the receipt. The process of folding up the paper and putting it in my wallet seems to take forever and my anxiety rises. I don’t want to try and jam it in my wallet as I walk away, juggling my purchases, but I imagine I can feel the impatience of the cashier and the people behind me in line as I take five seconds for myself. I feel so apologetic, like I’m committing a heinous act. How dare I take the time to finish my transaction when it so obviously and egregiously impacts others? How can I justify wasting their time?...
