If you follow this blog, which would be damn near a miracle in and of itself, you are aware that I have begun to print large documents at my day job. Let me say, it is not nearly as bad as I thought it would be as all the peeps I work with are totally stepping up to the plate and taking responsibility for their own stuff, but it’s still not the best thing in the world. I’ve already got some paper cuts and looking down at the microscopic serrations of my skin I had a thought.
Most of my ‘problems’ are paper cuts.
Annoying, sometimes painful, little things that inhibit my day-to-day routine for a week or so and then heal up. Isn’t it funny how those little cuts are all we can think about when they first happen, be it the pain when they come in contact with water when we wash our hair or the funny feeling when we type, but after a while, we forget where they even were. I look around me and see people with downright gashes in their skin, and they don’t whine as much as I do, or complain as much as I do. Shame on me, right. Yeah, shame on me. Like my granny always said, “Well, you can just scratch your tail and get glad.” (I don’t know, I grew up on a dirt road people.)
Things could always be worse. I still have my little sticky that says blessed in my line of sight. I also have 3 things that say believe (4 if you count my wrist) so when I start to get down about my little paper cuts I always have something reminding me to stop feeling sorry for myself. Look around. Are you dealing with paper cuts or gashes? Either way, you’ll find the strength. We always do.
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Most of my ‘problems’ are paper cuts.
Annoying, sometimes painful, little things that inhibit my day-to-day routine for a week or so and then heal up. Isn’t it funny how those little cuts are all we can think about when they first happen, be it the pain when they come in contact with water when we wash our hair or the funny feeling when we type, but after a while, we forget where they even were. I look around me and see people with downright gashes in their skin, and they don’t whine as much as I do, or complain as much as I do. Shame on me, right. Yeah, shame on me. Like my granny always said, “Well, you can just scratch your tail and get glad.” (I don’t know, I grew up on a dirt road people.)
Things could always be worse. I still have my little sticky that says blessed in my line of sight. I also have 3 things that say believe (4 if you count my wrist) so when I start to get down about my little paper cuts I always have something reminding me to stop feeling sorry for myself. Look around. Are you dealing with paper cuts or gashes? Either way, you’ll find the strength. We always do.
