Some days, though, you
can't see any water in the glass at all.
I woke up on whichever
side of the bed is the "wrong" side. The first thing I noticed as I
rubbed my aching head was the hole that my doorknob made in the
wall. Though it's been there for six years, this was the day I
wondered why my husband hasn't fixed it. My husband gave me a
good-morning hug, but I was still thinking about that hole.
I went into the bathroom and realized that the light was left on
all night and every insect that had been stowing away in the house
had migrated to the bathroom, fried itself on the 60-watt bulbs and
dropped into a mass grave in my sink. I didn't think about the fact
that we had very effectively eliminated every bug in the house
without using a single chemical.
No. My glass had no water in it.
I stepped into the shower and noted with frustration the bathtub
ring and the hard-water stains on the faucet.
I got dressed and realized that the buttons on my blouse couldn't
hold in the beasts. I mean the breasts. Instead of reveling in the
curvy (read "plus-size") figure that my husband is, for some reason,
very happy with, I chose to be annoyed that one of my shirts doesn't
adequately cover it.
Instead of being proud of my kids for making their own lunch in
the morning, I was livid because the knife was left sticking
straight up out of the peanut butter jar like a lonely sentinel.
[to top of second column]
I should've been pleased at the way the Carolina room looked
after we moved the furniture. But all I could see were the indents
in the carpet where the furniture had once been. How long would it
take before those went away?
I could have a hangnail 360 days in a year, but this was the only
day when I noticed. What was wrong with me?
When I walked out my front door, I ran smack into a spider web.
Well, OK, offhand I can't think of anything good about that. I
picked at my face, trying to snag some of that invisible web, but to
no avail. I bent over and tousled my hair, trying to dislodge any
possible live critters that were hiding in there. There is nothing I
hate worse than spiders
Well, except for that weed in my begonias. No matter how many
times I pull that weed, it keeps coming back.
Most days I would simply pull it without thinking about it, but
today there wasn't any water in my glass.
So, I took out a full arsenal of garden tools and started hacking
at that weed until I had pounded it into submission.
I sat back and surveyed my work. I think I got the entire root
out, but, I noticed, I had also annihilated my begonias.
Only then did I realize that the weed probably hadn't been that
[By LAURA SNYDER]
You can reach the writer at
Or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more columns and info about her books.