Weekly Updates:
- Strangest thing I ate this week: cactus salad. Not too shabby. It was bland and rubbery.
- Number of times the smoke detector went off: twice. For the record, neither time was my fault...
- Number of times I rode a bike this week: ZERO!!!! It was so strange. Which leads me to the Adventures of SuperBike...
This week brought perilous, dangerous, treacherous events all because SuperBike was locked in the basement!
Newspaper headlines: Catastrophe Strikes Chicago! Where is SuperBike!?!?!?
Early Friday morning, my companion was sucked into a hospital vortex, where a knife ripped through her toe and sanded off a bone spur! She's been immobilzed, confined to a couch for at least a week, per orders of the Evil Dr. Guziac's. If only SuperBike had been able to escape the basement...VillainVicodinVomit attacked my companion for two days. I was on bowl duty. (Side note: I've never been so proud of myself. I hate vomit. And I was a champ!)
Just today, as Hermana Hoer sat innocently writing her dear grandparents, her eyes began to burn and her lungs to constrict. GermanPancakePoison filled the air in smoke form. The toxic substance had hit the oven floor and immediately morphed into smoke, which quickly filled the entire apartment. SuperBike's pre-smoke detector would have been handy. But where is SuperBike???
(The adventures of SuperBike to be continued...)
At one home, we sat in a small, car-sized room, which was an incredibly and undesireably hot temperature - for nearly two hours! I was about to burst out of the room screaming "I can't take this". However, I kept my cool (not physically, obviously, because my whole complaint of this situation is how hot I was - but mentally). I just kept telling myself that self-control must be developed, somehow.
Don't worry. All ended well. They sent us away with a gift: personal sized spam.
Okay, on a more serious note:
An elder called this week to appologize for a comment he had made, in a joking manner. I had thought nothing of his comment, and took it as no more than a joke. He taught me something.
The small things matter a lot if we're listening. But they don't even cross our mind when we're consumed in ourselves. I've thought a lot about humility. There have been times when I am very acutely aware of small things that I need to fix or to change. But, as I focus on me, and making myself look good, I miss opportunities to grow by changing.
Be thou humble. Saying sorry is a good thing. Even for the little things.
Have a good week!
Hermana Hoer
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