This is my Saturday morning coffee mug. It is imperative that this mug be available to me for my Saturday morning coffee. I bought this mug about 5 years ago. At a thrift store on Nolensville Road. It was somewhere in the valuable neighberhood of .64 cents. I love this mug. I once took it to work so I could drink from it every day. But it seemed that everytime I put it in the dishwasher overnight at work, someone would come along before me and claim it for their own each day. This burned me. And it birthed a variety of personal moral implications. For instance, "why does this burn me so much?" or "why can't I share this wonderful gift of a mug with others around me?" Also, "is this mug not really mine, but a fruit of the many blessings showered over me by my abundantly giving God?" "Wouldn't He want me to share this mug with the least of these?" Further, "does not wanting to share my mug with others define me on the deepest of interior levels as a selfish, uncompromising embodiment of Id that is incapable of sharing those things which are more intrinsically and fundamentally meaningful?" It was somewhere around the word 'embodiment' that I decided I was over-analyzing and got over it. So what if I have a mug? So what if I don't want others to use it.
It became clear that having this mug at work - exposing it to the risk of mug-snatching - was both unfair to the mug and my soul. I took the mug home.
This morning, my roommate was about to pour her daily morning tea into my Saturday morning mug. She left the kitchen while the tea was boiling, and there sat my mug on the kitchen counter holding a tea bag, waiting for its contents. At the same time, my coffee is dripping and almost ready to be the contents of this mug.
As stealth as the night steals the dusk, I switched out my mug and slipped her tea bag into another, more suitable mug for her tea. When she returned to the kitchen to find a white mug waiting for her rather than a green, she barely batted an eyelash. You see, I knew I can maneuver this because my roommate rarely has an opinion about such mundane and inconsequential issues. She is just happy to have a mug. She is a better woman than I am I suppose. I even love her for it.
I may have overreacted.
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Again, I don't know why I can't sign in with my other blogger account, but instead with the blog that I started for Nathan & friends. Oh well. You know it's Lisa now that I've told you, right?