The little things that count...

Half my family suffer from some form of OCD.  Washing hands.... This mustn't be done like this, but precisely like that.... Checking doors (not just one or twice, but sometimes going back home to check the door for the fourth time)... This list goes on... Years ago I dated a guy who was OCD to the point of being quite painful.  I've never had an issue with feet on the couch (as long as you're not filthy, by all means get comfortable).  "No feet on the couch!"... "Don't sit on that couch" (even with the throw on it)... "The cats can't go in the house, their hair goes on everything" (the cats never did like him)...  I could list 100 things and still never get through all the OCD statements he made. Even I like the toothpaste to be pushed from the bottom, but with kids around, you're never going to win that battle... But most mornings, I still push the toothpaste up, and then use it, knowing it will be pushed from just below the to

It's been months since I've written a blog post.  I've had nothing to write about.  Nothing that stirred inside me.  Nothing inspiring.  Nothing thought provoking.  Nothing. We chase things our whole lives.  Always looking for something to make us happy.  Sometimes we fall into such a deep, dark depression, we may not even realize it at first.