There are many people and things (we just caught a mouse not long ago…yuck) that live in my house. Most of them I love. Most of them are harmless and I can deal with reasonably well. But not the one that lives in my shower.
Admittedly, I don’t clean my shower as often as I should. Any sort of cleaning that happens in the bathroom usually falls at the end of my to do list out of sheer distaste for the chore.But it isn’t the filth that accumulates on the walls and floor of the shower that gets to me. It’s the Devil that lives there.
It happens every time. Armed with spray bottles, brushes, paper towels and the thought that we cannot possibly go one more day with the shower in the state that it is in, I prepare for battle. Without fail, I get frustrated. (*spray, spray*)And angry. (*scrub,scrub,scrub*)And mean.(*SCRUB, SCRUB, SCRUB*) I tell myself that no one else cares about the state of the house. I’m the only one who ever does anything.(*VIOLENT OUTBURST OF THROWING DIRTY PAPER TOWELS*) Every person in my life is ungrateful. I have long, drawn-out fights with my husband, who isn’t even in the house. I turn into an ugly, utterly selfish and inconsolable brat.
The feeling lasts for a while. I marvel at how beautiful our shower can actually be normally while forcing back tears of anger. I put away my cleaning supplies and find something else wrong with the house to be angry about. Eventually, my anger turns into sadness and despair and I can only focus on the negative parts of each day and of myself. Flaws abound and I convince my self of my utter worthlessness. I have the very bad habit of letting these, among other, moods force me into a black hole that takes me a while to climb out of on my own.
I hate the person that this ritual turns me into but I still haven’t found a way to avoid it besides actually letting the shower fall to pieces.
I cleaned our shower yesterday. I’m just now finding myself starting to come out of the hole.
Lord, have mercy.