An hour ago, I started a column about the little things in life that annoy me.

It didn’t take long for the list to grow.

But as I wrote about the first annoyance on the list, serendipity! (Please look up the definition to better understand this article.)

The number one annoyance was the inspiration for the original column: I’d gone to my favorite gym and wanted to park in my favorite spot…but someone had parked there, already. Damn it! Why?

As I typed about this annoyance, suddenly this thought happened “in a happy or beneficial way”: I sound like an angry, old man.

Yep. it was a shock. A revelation, especially as I looked over the list of grievances. What had happened to me? I consider myself a happy, well-adjusted senior human so why, why, why am I making lists about things I find annoying? Who’s kidding who? And who am I really?

But it gets better. As I considered my newly developed questions in life, other thoughts took over:

1. Why would I think the parking spot was put there just for me?
2. When I parked in another spot because I couldn’t park in my favorite spot, did I then park in someone else’s favorite spot?
3. Did losing their favorite spot make them go home and write about it? (Probably on Facebook?)

It was a never ending loop of consequences pointing to my annoyance and my inconvenience as the only important things in life. It is narcissistic. It is troublesome. It is a waste of time.

So the thoughts of others flooded my brain. For example, the lady I honked my horn at because she was slow to move at the green light: was she okay or was she suffering a physical or emotional catastrophe resulting in her sitting there for 10 seconds before I rudely shocked her awake?

The thought of her possible problems did more than generate curiosity, the thought reminded me that I did not have any of those problems. None. It brought me back full circle to the human being I always thought I was: grateful for my health, sanity, limbs, and loved ones. Content with what life has given over the years, and not all that upset with what life has taken away.

And when I go the gym, if my parking spot is not available, I’ll be happy for the person who beat me to it. Lucky bastard.