Blessed. Ugh. I have had issues with that word since before I can remember. Blessed. It makes me feel so, I don’t know, cringy. To me, it signifies that I, as the “blessed”, am in a better position than someone else. More elevated. More healthy. More rich. More children. More talented. Whatever IT is – I have more of IT – because you see, I. Am. Blessed. Because when you think about it, for someone to qualify as “blessed”, someone else has to be lower, beneath them, “unblessed” you could say. Because if we were ALL blessed, then we would be equal, and then that sort of defeats the purposed of blessed , right? I dislike the term so much that once my sister gave me a tacky hot pad from the Dollar Tree that said “blessed”. Only, because she knew my opinion of the word, she used a black Sharpie to cross that out with a circle and a slash, signifying “unblessed” I guess. I liked it. I think it is still in our dishtowel drawer. So, “H