Always Real, Sometimes Tart

Lint as a metaphor for my life…

There is a piece of lint on the rug by the front door. It is taunting me. It has been there for, well, let’s just say several days. I pass by this piece of lint, oh, about 20 times a day. And every time I pass, I look down and see it, just sitting there. But not just sitting there quietly and unobtrusively like all the other unexplained bits of life on the floor. This piece of lint is white and screams “Look! At! Me! Pick me up! I won’t be ignored!”

You would think that I would just bend over and pick it up and throw it out the front door, or put it in my pocket or even eat it, just to relieve myself of the mental torture of being taunted by lint. But no, I don’t, because I can’t. That obnoxious piece of lint represents all the little details in my life and household that remain bothersome and undone. If I give attention to that piece of lint then all the other lint in my life will start causing trouble and wanting attention too, so best to just leave it alone.

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