Slice 340 of 365
While browsing catalogs yesterday I saw something called the comfort cross. It was a handheld wooden cross, on the thick side, that you could get a good grasp on. I immediately thought it was one of the dumbest things I’d ever seen. Then I felt bad for thinking that. Whether I agree or believe in the premise is no reason to think someone else’s coping mechanism is dumb.
I mean, if that piece of wood can comfort someone, for whatever reason, then they should get it, and I should shut the hell up. I’m not sure about other people, (OK, I am definitely sure of some people) but sometimes, it is very easy to come to lightning fast conclusions without any thought at all.
After thirty seconds of thought, things become a little more clear and ding, ding, ding, the idiot alarms go off. It’s a good thing they only go off in my head, otherwise it would be quite noisy for the rest of the world.
My biggest comfort is food. I don’t want to be grasping that all the time though. I type that as I have a cannoli sitting in the fridge from dinner at Aroma’s Pizza tonight.
Really, it’s just a coincidence.