|Picnicking instead of cleaning. At least the crumbs stay at the park.|
Every day this week I've looked around my house. I've sighed. I've thought: "I really need to tidy this place up."
I tidy up and it stays that way for about 4.5 seconds.
I look around and sigh. I really should tidy this place up.
And then lunch with friends pops up and the house work goes to the back of the line.
Then the sun comes out and we decide to go for a picnic. The house work goes to the back of the line.
Then we go for another picnic. The house work goes to the back of the line.
Then Goose asks me to read her a story. The house work goes to the back of the line.
It's now Friday afternoon. There's clean washing piled high in the basket, desperate to be put away. But the cupboards are full. The baby's asleep and I don't want to wake him. I'm lazy.
The place is dusty, there are crumbs on the floor. Clean dishes drying on the rack, desperate to be put away. But there are bills to pay. Blog posts to write. Phone calls to make. I'm lazy.
Why tidy up when it's going to be turned on its head 30 seconds after I've finished? Five of us living in four small rooms equals constant chaos.
I just looked around and sighed. "Look at this place!" Goose said: "It's a pigsty."
It causes me constant stress and grief. I'm truly the world's worst housewife.