So, here’s the skinny: I’ve been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
Ala-ka-zam – Five Minute Friday was born.
We’ve all got five minutes – while the kids are wrestling, while the macaroni’s boiling, while the dog is doing his business, while the plumber is resuscitating your washing machine.
Sit down, think of the most unique person you encountered while you were out and about this week, and write them into life for us. In five minutes flat. I’ll go first:
When you’ve left your husband home with two sniffling, feverish kids, you don’t make small talk with the pharmacist, you don’t browse the magazine racks, you don’t do anything but pace until the antibiotics – the liquid pink gold – is ready. And you rarely notice the guy who takes the script, packages up the meds, and hands them into your desperate hands.
But sometimes you do.
Sometimes the guy is dressed in a grubby grocery store clerk’s uniform and you can’t quite understand why he’s so eager to take your prescription and ask if there’s anything else you need. So you notice him.
You notice how his demeanor changes when he’s behind this counter. How his shoulders straighten and the interest in his eyes widens and he cares. And when he sees your defeat at the half hour it’s going to take before the meds are ready, you notice his concern, his conversation with the pharmacist and his care in telling you they’ll be working on it as fast as they can.
And when you come back after gazing at row and rows of chocolate covered cherries you keep noticing. You notice how he’s wearing another color coat now. How it fits what seems to be going on with his insides. And how he’s clearly meant to care, to have responsibility, to help desperate moms and old men who need their monthly pain meds filled.
OK, show us what you’ve got: