Susie, make me a sandwich.

In real-life mode, I have moved a mountain today. Okay, a tiny mountain, but I did it. I have another one tomorrow, and so on, and so on....

Went to see a colleague, and she was on the phone with her husband. He was home because he was forced into early retirement (read: ageism). He was going to bring her lunch. I jokingly asked if I could have lunch, too. And yes! A turkey sandwich!

He made for me: a turkey sandwich with light cream cheese on a light whole-wheat sandwich roll, lettuce, with a dill pickle on the side, Fuji apple, bottle of water, and a chocolate biscotti for dessert. He has never met me, and did this because he loves his wife, and wanted to make someone's day.

Make someone's day? How about my year?!

I do not know why, but sandwiches in particular taste exemplary when someone else makes them.

And it reminded me of the other day, skipping to the mail box in the Dwarven District, and lo and behold, Guarf sent me a pet. A little green lizardy-dragon thing. Since I already had one in my collection, forwarded it to hunter girl Haanta, who was grateful to have it.

His timing was funny and a bit spooky, because gifts of this nature have been on my mind recently.

I make a lot of metaphorical sandwiches for people, and sometimes, no one seems to notice until I stop.

And maybe that's why I like to visit Azeroth. Don't feed sandwiches to the trolls, though, okay? It's just not worth it. They aren't 'sandwich worthy.'

Postscript: Senor, I haven't seen you in awhile. I'm out of croc meat and dragonflesh, and feel a bit lost without something to cook. I keep wandering into the kitchen, opening up cupboards, and seeing they're empty. Dang, now I'll have to go fishing.

I'm linking this again because of the comments' thread. Some really heartening and discouraging anecdotes.