The only deadly sin

I haven't been feeling well lately. The doctors are mystified. So today, as I tried to drag myself out of bed to go to WFTJ, I decided not to. I took the kiddo to school and plopped my exhausted self back in bed. I spent most of the day sleeping.

And then, horror struck. My doorbell rang. Now, my house has a very firm "No Solicitors" sign pasted near the bell. My assumption: the person ringing the bell has a very important reason for doing so. Twice. You all know where this story is headed, don't you?

I opened the door to find a very perky couple identifying themselves as being from some organization. I firmly told them I wasn't interested. Perky woman tries to step into my house. My House. I told them I wasn't interested again and shut the door.

Now, here's what future solicitors need to know about showing up at MY HOUSE. The sign says "No Solicitors." As a courtesy, allow me to share the definition of solicitor from my beloved Dictionary.com, "One that solicits, especially one that seeks trade or contributions." And, in case you don't know what the word "solicits" means, here it is: "To seek to obtain by persuasion, entreaty, or formal application" and my favorite "To petition persistently; importune."

So here it is: broken down in plain English. If you ring my doorbell and want to tell me about whatever it is that you're selling or seeking donations for, DON'T. The sign says not to. If you can't read, then I don't want to entrust my money with your organization. As a writer, I think literacy is important. If you can read and are choosing not to respect my sign, then I'm choosing not to support an organization who chooses not to respect ME.

How does all of this relate to the only deadly sin? Ask my husband. In our home, waking me is punishable by death. Particularly when I don't feel well. Particularly when I'm ignoring all items of importance to spend my precious day sleeping. Particularly when said interruption leaves me unable to go back to sleep. Particularly when said interrupter is perky. Have I mentioned that I hate perky people? Especially upon waking.

I was hoping to leave my state of hibernation to tell you I feel much better, am much happier, and am back to my old self. Now, all I have to say is that I'm still tired, grouchier, and now I have a headache. I can still hear the doorbell echoing against my throbbing skull.

And then, I had a horrible thought. Given that I wasn't wearing my glasses, and I very well could have just slammed the door in my own mother's face, what if I just slammed the door in Jesus' face?

Sometimes, being an old grouch does not pay.

Worst of all, I still haven't gone out and bought the hubby a birthday present. Yep, it's his birthday. So make it up to him and post a great big happy birthday to That Man. I would, but I have a headache.