I have them all around. They’re the crumbs on the floor stuck to your heel that squish and squirt with each filthy step you take on the floor you thought you could mop tomorrow. The bills you pin to a board your husband made in the garage, when he was out of work, that you now throw darts on to see which bill gets paid. The right combination of meat and ketchup that somehow tonight will magically look better and different than the night before. The answer to those late night tears falling down your cheeks with not the slightest clue where the disappointment began.
One after another they seem to march in taking over my thoughts, thoughts that used to be consumed with dreams. There is an avalanche of decisions in my head, overwhelming me with its sheer volume and speed. Nightmares of wrong turns delay my sleep. I am filled with the disturbances of being an adult.
I discard the raisin like substance from the bottom of my foot. Then I mop, allowing me the pleasure of restoration in one area of my life. I sit down and take in the beauty of a clean floor over a cup of tea that I sip like a prayer. It will hopefully be an answered prayer and will come quick before the linoleum is dull again.