This was the first dak of a dak filled day. And for those of you who may share my coffee
After dropping our son off at school I had an hour before my hair dressers appointment. Naturally, I stopped at my local Starbucks for my second and final coffee of the day: a double long half caf. The baristas know me well, very well. It might be the daily visit. Today the barista bought me my coffee. Two coffee daks in less than two hours. It was almost magic. Fortunately I was wearing my dakbands......
It doesn't stop there. In a caffeine haze I arrived at my hair appointment, ready to enjoy the next two hours and get some work done while the colorist worked her magic. The woman beside me was already lathered up and buried in a magazine. There must been dak fairy dust in the air, because instead of burying myself in the advanced statistics book I'd brought to study, I found myself in a therapy session with a complete stranger. Well she started out as a stranger reading a magazine, with her head covered in hair dye, sitting beside me in a beauty salon. She left as Jennifer, my friend, who was kind and generous, and confident enough, to share the story of how her sons were able to overcome emotional trauma caused by her severe post partumn depression. She did this to encourage me and give me hope for my son, who experienced severe emotional trauma when he entered the adoption system as a two year old. By sharing her story, she gave me courage to share mine, and perhaps even gave me tools to change the outcome. We exchanged numbers and I gave her my last two dakbands.
What a day.