Sundays Not So Fun Days Sunday is supposed to be a slow day, a day of rest. Somehow it never is. I wonder what happened to people keeping the Sabbath holy. When I was a kid the town felt calm on Sunday. Stores closed early. Families slowed down. The day had a soft rhythm. It felt like the world took a long breath before Monday. Now Sunday feels like chaos in a different outfit. Folks rush to church. Then they rush out of church. Ten minutes later they rush into the parts store and act like the sky is falling because a battery died. By the end of the night some come in drunk and loud. The contrast is hard to miss. I am not part of a church anymore. I will share why in another post when I am ready. I still remember the talk about living your faith every day. Not only in a pew. I see people who say they follow that path. Their actions do not match the talk. Maybe they forget. Maybe the week grinds them down. Maybe it is easier to speak faith than to live it w...

When Customers Become Friends 🧡 Working at O’Reilly’s, I meet a lot of people every day. Most come in just looking for a part, an answer, or a little bit of guidance. But every so often, something bigger happens—someone walks in as a customer and, over time, becomes a friend. Those are the moments that remind me that connection can show up in the most ordinary places. As an autistic person, building friendships isn’t always easy for me. Social rules can feel confusing, and I don’t always know the “right” way to connect. But when kindness is genuine, it cuts through all the awkwardness. Some of my favorite friendships started at the parts counter—over shared laughs, stories about old cars, or even just a small conversation about life outside of repairs. Friendship doesn’t have to be complicated. It can start with a smile, a simple “How are you really doing today?” or remembering someone’s name. Those little things add up. Over time, customers who were once strangers have become...

🪰 The Day I Battled a Houdini Fly (and Got News That Shook Me) Today was… well, something else . It all started when I was attacked by a fly. Not just any fly—this little menace had to be related to Houdini himself . He’d dive bomb me, vanish, then come back for round two like it was some kind of twisted game. It was downright infuriating. Then the fly turned on Mikey—which, to be fair, he deserved after laughing at my hysterical flailing. Picture me jumping around, waving my arms, trying to protect myself from this unprovoked aerial assault. Mikey thought it was the funniest thing ever… until he became target number two. Despite our heroic efforts, we never managed to squash the bugger. It felt like a full-on 911 emergency . And of course, when we texted Miranda to come rescue us, she was in the shower. Perfect sitcom timing, right? 📞 And then—my phone rang… Ryan, my boss, said he wants to sit down Wednesday and *have a talk.* And just to calm me down, he...