During the highest moments in my life, and the lowest, it
seems I always had dishes and, let me add, laundry to do. No matter if I’d just given birth or thought
the world was going to end, all I had to do was look over my shoulder to
remember, that the dishes needed doing.
Oh Yea! In my finer moments of
domestic bliss I’d get them done in the most efficient way possible, then off
to the next task (most likely laundry) then before I knew it, there was a pile
of dishes to do again.
Not even a chickless nest helps. Plenty of bowls, mugs and stemmed glasses
seem to pop up overnight. Not enough to
load a dishwasher mind you but enough to take a good 15 to 20 minutes out of
your day. Problem is I can’t seem to do
anything else until they are done. Even
though I know they are never going to be done and if I keep doing the dishes
what am I doing really? The damn dishes.
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