The trouble with housework is...it never ends. And one thing always leads to another. Unlike balancing a column of numbers, or putting down a book, or finishing the last bite of a good meal, with housework you do the same thing over and over with no end in sight. Sigh. Shining windows put a spotlight on cobwebs previously unnoticed and dust coating the knickknacks sitting on a high shelf. Fine, just fine. Weeding; now weeding is something I can get into. It might be a whole season before that will need repeating. Mowing is another satisfaction-producing task; could be another week or two before it has to be done again. I really enjoy cooking although it's an every-day job. Different cuisines, different ingredients, different techniques. That's something to look forward to. Even laundry, if you have enough socks and don't have any kids around, doesn't have to be done all the time. (Four teenagers, two showers each a day, two towels for each shower. Yeah, I washed at least one load every single day for years back then.) Don't get me wrong, I love the end result after a bout of major cleaning. The trouble is, by the time I get the last room polished and spiffed up, the first room needs attention again. Dust the same furniture, sweep the same floors, wash the same glassware. Capital B boring.
I get a reprieve today (insert smiley face here). Deb and Craig are coming up! I'm perfectly willing to lose whatever weak momentum I had and put off housework one more day. That's my trouble, I'm a very good procrastinator. But don't those washed windows look good? Trust me, the rest will still be there tomorrow.