There is still a little bit of snow and ice scattered about on the driveway. Nothing to slip on. Nothing you’d really notice. But I do.
I know it stems from childhood. Maybe I should have gotten help then. I had to get every last flake of snow or speck of ice off the driveway. It’s not as if I was ordered to. I just had to.
It got worse when I became a homeowner, and had a short, sloping driveway. I was maniacal to the point where people would ask, “Hey, you got one of those heated driveways? It’s spotless!”
Now we have a flat driveway. I promised myself when we moved that I’d get over this snow removal obsession. I’m trying. I’m storm-to-storm, day-to-day.
Really, what’s left is insignificant. To you.
Temptation. Resisting. So hard.