The paper towels hate me…

Been bad about blogging lately. Sorry to those who actually read this and are wondering what is going on.

Today I’m going to write about my conflict with paper towels yesterday. We have these tri-fold (evil) brown paper towels at work. I had finished washing my hands and went to grab a few of them and discovered that they were stuck together. So, instead of getting a few, I got several. And then several more as those were stuck together too.

Now this would have been funny, except that I was having trouble dealing with stuff at work and people’s attitudes so this just about sent me over the edge. So instead of calmly pulling the paper towels apart, I flailed them a bit, spreading several more into the sink, on the counter and a few on the floor.

By this time I thought I looked pretty silly and then chose to calmly pick them up and stack the ones that were still dry. In the process, I knocked the other pile over. Yes, the neatly stacked pile. So, frustration once again mounted as I now had to pick that pile up.

Somewhere in between picking up the entire pile of paper towels that were now everywhere, I realized: That was small stuff. SMALL. A friend once told me that it could be as simple as breaking a fingernail that sometimes sets us off. Yesterday the paper towels was my “broken fingernail.” It’s still small stuff, I know. But when the small stuff starts to get to us it’s time to stop and look at the bigger picture and figure out what is really bothering us. Scattered paper towels should have been funny. Not something that raised my blood pressure.

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