Perhaps it was the ten days in Rome and the monkey wrench of time zones and jet lag?
Perhaps is was an hour fall back a week after returning from Rome, and just as I was finally becoming acclimated to U.S. daylight time?
Perhaps it has been trying to launch a new division in my business all the while keeping up with the stuff that I’ve done for seventeen years.
Perhaps it was a trip to Smyrna at the beach and back for Thanksgiving? Nope it couldn't be that.
Or...
Perhaps it is just the way I am.
Today as I was making my morning rounds of email, Facebook, WRAL.com, CNN.com and a variety of other online morning diversions, a voice kept calling out to me from the half bath.
“Michael,” was the sweet siren call.
“Michael, come in here, I need attention, you don’t want guests to come round and see that I’m nasty and then by default see that you're nasty, do you? Huh, do you, huh?
It couldn’t be. The toilet in the half bath needs cleaning again I thought. Didn’t I do that before I went to marmy and dad’s house for Thanksgiving? I know that I did. Still once that voice gets into my head, there is no fighting it.
Out comes the comet and out comes the magic toilet brush, a good one that really gets in there and gets the job done.
But wait, as I approach the vile cur there is something stuck to the bottom of my slipper and although the lid to the porcelain throne is open. I must stop what I'm doing and inspect the bottom of my bedroom shoe.
I don’t know how it happened, but my slipper did just that, it slipped and splash right in the drink.
Now I must clean the toilet and wash and dry my slippers because there ain’t no way that shoe is going back on my foot until it has about thirty minutes interaction with some Tide.
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