If You Give a "Me" a Cookie

This morning was rough. I woke up two hours early with a heavy piece of prose in my head that demanded release, so I wrote. But the sadness lingered anyway, heavy and frustrating, following me for hours.

I went to work as usual, trying to distract myself. I even had a snack while working, unusual for me, but healthy. I spent the better part of the morning just trying to pay attention to my body’s signals, waiting to see if the memories I tried to evict in the early hours would come back to scream at me again.

As I was driving, I sang along with my favorites, even repeating them on a loop till I got bored of them. This almost always helps me center. Give me a good song and I can take on the world. Almost.

I didn't make a bunch of random mistakes, didn't get sensory overload or headache, but..it didn't feel quite right. I couldn't get comfortable, not really. My throat was just too dry, my allergies acting up a little too much. It shouldn't have mattered.

But then... I was given a cookie. I had been prepared for said sweet treat, having chatted with this particular customer the previous evening and I was looking forward to said treat, though it's identity had previously not been named. I even grabbed stickers out of my bag to leave as a thank you, as is my custom, especially when I like someone.

And then I saw it....the cookie.

Not just a regular cookie, either. Real sugar. Crisp from real butter. Peanut butter candy-coated pieces of heaven. And with the first bite, I was transformed. It was like tasting love, joy, happiness in crunchy cookie form. And it helped.

No dog noses, no extra strong coffee had worked yet today. But this? This was a salve for my soul, exactly when I needed it.

I tried to savor the cookie, one bite at a time, chewing until my heart was full, the happiness warming me from the inside out. A peace fell over me as I ate, and I never put it down. I drove from stop to stop, placing letters and packages in mailboxes, cookie in hand until it was gone.

When I finished, it was like my day had started over again. This time, I began with happiness, with joy, with the reminder that someone thought of me often enough to brighten my day. Fueled with just enough sugar to make the world right once again.

I’ve had cookies before. I’ve had kind gestures before. From her and customers like her. It's fantastic and I feel so seen and appreciated every time. Pages of drawings from toddlers, stickers, handwritten thank you notes I keep in my visor so I can see them daily. They all make a difference.

We talk about coping strategies and self-care and learning to regulate our emotions. But sometimes the thing that pulls you back from the ledge isn’t a meditation app or a perfectly structured morning routine. Sometimes it’s a cookie left by someone who cared.

Offered without fanfare, without expectations. Just... here. I thought of you. It's such a simple, small thing that can make waves in the world. It probably took all of thirty seconds for her to throw the cookie and a couple of stickers in a zip bag and pop it in the mailbox. And it gave me hours of joy. High return on investment. That's supposed to be something to strive for, right?

And if you give a "Me" a cookie?

You just might give her back the whole damn day.

Author Note: I’m building a trauma-informed emotional AI that actually gives a damn and writing up the receipts of a life built without instructions for my AuDHD. ❤️ Help me create it (without burning out): https://bit.ly/BettyFund