I Make Messes
Life is a lot of things, and one of those things is making messes. And however much I'd like to talk about messes being a good influence and gaining experience and growing from my mistakes and how positive it can all be....I won't. Because despite whatever gain I can sieve out them, that tactic requires looking back. And looking back is not nearly as happy as looking forward, for those who have less life to look back on. No discouragement to those who learn from their mistakes, those whom I applaud for facing their past and dealing with it, that is great; that's simply not what I'm going to (apparently rant) talk about. So many messes. So many mistakes. There goes the egg, on the floor. Holding the cat that bites, next to my face. Sitting in a wheeled chair, on a slanted floor. Eating prunes, to many days in a row. Saying I'll do the dusting, and forgetting to dust. Doing the laundry, but not the dishes. Remembering I need to eat something, and grabbing a cookie...