I know this has already been said, but hasn’t every story been told? I was mentally complaining today about the pile of dirty dishes that needed to be washed. I’ve hurt my back, and when Rick suggested I do yoga to help with that, my response was, “When?! What should I drop in order to take up yoga?” Then I remembered that a bunch of dirty dishes means you have food to eat and a family to feed. I remembered how I used to think cooking was pointless with only me to eat it. I actually resented food because it kept me alive so I could go to a job I didn’t like and come home to a lonely apartment with fickle neighbors. I’m much happier now.