Sometimes I walk through the mud. I feel it forming thick clumps on the bottoms of my shoes, and seeping, creeping up my pant legs. After a little while I stop trying to keep the mud to a minimum, and get a little careless- letting the muck and grime splash up on the hem of my shirt. It seeps and creeps there, too, and I start to feel suffocated by it. Finally I abandon all cleanliness and knowingly wipe dirt from my hands across my face, feeling rather immersed and far from a spotless, sparkling bride. Sometimes the progression from mostly-clean to complete-mess takes me months to accomplish, and sometimes it happens in the first 3 minutes of my day. I know too well the sinking feeling of the first splashes of darkness. When I come to get clean I have another set of choices to make: Do I turn my head down in the sink and splash my face clean... I feel a little better, refreshed enough to move on for a short while before the rest of me cries out to be washed. Do I ta...