Sour

We began the day in a way that would make even Alexander shudder.

I was given a sour dough starter this week by a friend. This morning it fell out of the fridge, the lid popped off, and it splattered all over the kitchen. The bottom shelf of the fridge came out at the same time, sending salad dressing bottles skidding around on the mess – a very sour start to the morning.

Chloe came in to investigate and I snapped at her, continuing with my soured start.

The soured theme seems to describe me this week. I don’t normally get cantankerous on my blog about things like alcohol and the SBC or an improper view of Christians and culture. I’m sour this week.

I’ve got other issues going on that are causing the curdling. I think that since I can’t really discuss those, my crankiness is coming out in different ways: snappy and cynical about everything else.
It’s time, yet again, to regain some proper perspective. I’d better do it quickly before I become something to eat with crackers (I’ve never liked being cheesy).

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