Happiness is a bowl of salsa

Someone asked me the other day if I was happy and positive all of the time.

“Of course not,” I answered. “I’m human.” “Well, you look happy every time I see you,” she replied.

Later that day I found myself giving further thought to her question. For the most part, I do consider myself a happy person. I try to begin each day with a positive attitude, but sometimes life has other plans for me. It is at those times I have to give myself an attitude adjustment.

Recently, I was tested. We had eaten at one of my favorite Mexican restaurants. I asked the waitress to box up the uneaten portion of my meal so that I could take it home. I asked for more chips and salsa, and dreamed all night of having this for lunch the next day.

Most of the time I try to eat healthy, but all bets are off when it comes to hot and spicy Mexican food. I’ve never met a chip I didn’t like and I absolutely adore chips dipped in salsa — especially the salsa I brought home. I planned the whole next day around my re-heated lunch.

The gym was my first stop. I got a healthy start at spin class. Since I basically exercise to eat, every revolution I made on my bike lessened the guilt I had planned for lunch. Every sin has a debt that must be paid, and that includes bad food sins. After spin class, I had some errands to run. So far, my day was happy and positive.

I returned home just in time for lunch and barely shut the back door before I retrieved my leftovers from the refrigerator. I placed the food on a plate and into the microwave it went. I opened the container of my favorite salsa and my mouth watered as I poured it into a bowl.

I grabbed a few napkins, something to drink, and some utensils and put them on the breakfast room table along with the salsa and chips. The food wasn’t quite ready, so I took the opportunity to enjoy a chip dipped in salsa. I was very happy ... until ...

As I watched in horror, the bowl of salsa slipped from my hand, clipped the edge of the table, flipped several times in what seemed like slow motion until finally coming to rest on the rug under our table. Upon impact, the salsa was slung onto everything in its path, including me.

I stood there in disbelief as I assessed the situation and felt happiness leave the room allowing anger to enter. Salsa was dripping from the entire wall, splattered four or five feet onto the rug, all over the table and a portion of our hardwood floors. The only places it wasn’t was in the bowl or my mouth.

The horrible thing about this kind of accident is you can’t just walk away. You have to clean it up. I think I heard life chuckle as I scrubbed every surface of the breakfast room. When I finished, I was no longer hungry but had a spitting headache.

It was a few hours before I pushed anger out of the door and begged happiness to return. The first thing that went through my mind was what that lady who asked me the happiness question would think of this furious Mark.

The real tests in life seldom come at convenient times. Joy can be stripped away without a moment’s notice. In the big scheme of things, spilled salsa in not a major deal but, on that particular day, it was to me.

None of us are happy all of the time. Our job is to remember not to allow anger to consume us. It might drop by occasionally but we should make it known that it is not welcome!

This story was originally published May 26, 2017 at 11:30 AM with the headline "Happiness is a bowl of salsa."