tender mercies.

We all have those days.  The ones where we get to work, and see a bad situation turn to a worse situation turn to a hopeless situation.  The ones where nothing you do can help and all you actually can do is just count the hours until the torture ends, while pretending to keep some semblance of positivity.  That little sliver of hope leads to an idea: perhaps the quick fix to this awful, horrible, no good, very bad day is a half-pound bean and cheese burrito from Del Taco.  That idea takes a sliver into a flint.  A spark of happiness, even.

Until you get into your car at 9:40 p.m. and realize that you left your wallet at home and all you have are the random coins sitting in your middle console.

The despair of that terrible day returns.

But sometimes, by some miracle, you have exactly one dollar and twelve cents in change in that middle console.  Enough for such a blessed burrito, with seven cents to spare.

Now that is what I call a tender mercy.