Getting out of bed this morning, I realized that I’m on day four of feeling like poop. The hacking is getting worse, the eye that turned red yesterday is oozy, and the nose that keeps running is sore. Ugh.
“I wish I could just go back to bed.”
I shuffled down the hall to wake my son and noticed how disgusting his bathroom is. Spattered mirror, dirty sink, and God-only-knows what might be growing in the toilet and tub.
“I wish he would clean that bathroom.”
As I let the dog out into the yard, a cold blast of air greeted me. Great. I have playground duty this morning.
“I wish it were warmer outside.”
I fed the dog and filled her water bowl, careful not to knock over the glasses in the kitchen sink.
“I wish these dishes were done and put away.”
I glanced at the clock and realized that I could probably squeeze in a quick post, but I wasn’t sure what to write about.
“I wish I had better ideas.”
For inspiration, I clicked on my news feed. Stories of refugees, illness, poverty, and desperation filled my screen.
“I have no problems.”