The other day I was scraping old caulk from the kitchen sink. I’d been living with ugly caulk for quite a while, and no amount of bleach had made the slightest improvement. It was a pain-in-the-ass job, but one that had to be tackled. My fingers nearly fell off, but I got the scraping done and re-caulked the mutha. In much the same way that taping takes most of one’s time when painting, scraping took more time than the actual caulking. And when I was finished, the sink looked like, well, like a non-ebola-infested sink is supposed to look.
Later, it occurred to me that some jobs result in obvious change, while others do not. Take the big blue wall in the rumpus room, for example. That beauty is still turning my head. Honestly, I have no idea how long it will take for me to get used to it. The kitchen sink, on the other hand, is just a sink. I know I put in a lot of time toward cleaning up its appearance, but now I don’t even notice it. It’s just a clean sink with clean caulk lines. I appreciate it and all, but it definitely doesn’t turn my head.
I guess life is like that some times. Certain moments are more striking than others. Some occurrences are all jazz-hands and such. Others – not so much. But it doesn’t mean the others aren’t important. It just means our eyes don’t necessarily notice what lies beneath. And that’s okay. I know that having a clean sink makes me happy, even if I don’t know why. And happy, friends, is a very big deal.