Some people are born with good dispositions. They wake up cheerful and full of zest. I am not one of them. I’m the one who always get up on the wrong side of the bed. I growl, snarl and likely spit at you till I’ve had my first cup of tea. I’ve had a few cups now. I’m a little mellowed out. But that Sheba! In the afternoon she fusses and barks and get underfoot. I could just *!#* Grrrr.

I’m still growling a bit. Life is hard. Nothing works, nothing gets done until I move. How unfair is that? Yesterday I looked at the piles on my desk and my file cabinet bursting with paper. Everything was still the same. I sighed a few times and wondered why it was so hard to move my hands and arms. I had to do it myself. Nobody could do it for me.

One thing I do is not feeling sorry for myself. I heaved another sigh, moved a few papers around the desk. I thought I should do something relatively easy for my tired and not so clear brain. I went into my Mastercard file and pulled out all the bills saved the last year and a half. That’s enough to keep. I took the two and a half year pile downstairs to shred.

I saw that I had a previous pile beside the shredder. It was transcripts of my high school, university and nursing exam marks. It felt strange shredding them. It felt like I was shredding and disposing my life. I let the feelings flow through me. The transcripts were no longer of use. The marks do not define how good or what worth I am. It felt good to rid of them. I can now define myself.

It felt good clearing my file cabinet. Somehow my head feels less cluttered. One less pile to tangle up the cogs. Now my neurons can complete their synapses. No more mixed messages. The day is looking brighter. I’m less grumpy. Who could ask for anything more?

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