Stictocardia beraviensis Mile-a-Minute Climber...
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Last night my Sister caught me on my behind. I was sitting in the kitchen, on the floor. I hadn’t fallen, I had actually planned to do this, but I hadn’t planned to get caught in the act.

She had called Dad in order to ask him something, and he handed me the phone to talk to her a minute. That was fine with me, I like my Sister, and I enjoy corrupting her. The problem, I hadn’t intended to get caught, bucket and rag in hand.

I wasn’t violating any lift restrictions or anything, I put water in the bucket via a smaller container. Yet, the floor needed scrubbing.  I swear.

I needed to scrub that floor. I have learned that when my mind is going a thousand miles an hour, sometimes, just maybe, scrubbing a floor helps. The kitchen floor is only so big, so I didn’t cause more pain, but it felt good to be down there, scrubbing.

Yet, in the next 24 hours, I’m afraid I’m going to need to scrub that floor again. I’m heading back to Minnesota for a Dr’s appointment, and to pick up my things. Please pray for me, I’m not looking forward to it.

I’m afraid of my temper, and I’m afraid of what I’ll say. I’m afraid of blowing my top.

I’ll be praying today, that things go well, and that I have the strength to stay calm.

When I get back, I’ll probably grab a bucket and attack that floor again.


1 thought on “Morning,”

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