I've never been the very best housekeeper in the world. I used to have a cleaning service that came once a month. My daughter and I loved coming home on that day to find everything sparkling clean. It was my favorite day. But working full-time, taking care of a child or two, taking care of the shopping, cooking, cleaning, lawns, plants, gutters, decks, and running a child to this or that practice means not everything is going to get done. If it gets done, it might not be done well.
Now that my daughter is out on her own, I've given myself the excuse that I have a full-time job to pay the bills and a part-time job of writing. Once again, that doesn't leave a lot of time for housework. If I have an extra hour, I admit I use it for research or writing or pre-reading with Carol, my writing buddy.
I have the good fortune of living out in the country where no one is likely to drop-in (just passing through and thought I'd stop by). But in the back of my mind, the "what if" crops up. What if I were burglarized and the cops came to dust for prints and my dirty clothes were in two separate piles (whites and darks) on the floor of my bathroom? What if my stove blew up again and the appliance repairman had to come and the top was greasy? What if my water heater sprang a leak and a guy from work offered to come help me fix it and I hadn't vacuumed for a couple weeks?
I follow a young woman's blog in Canada and a "what if" happened to her. It is the stuff from which nightmares are made. Her story went from bad to worse to horrific. And it had tears rolling down my cheeks. From laughing. Not at her trauma, of course, but at her description of it. I recommend you read this one blog. Once you read it, however, you'll probably decide you'd better go do your dishes and wash your windows.
Here is the blog. She'd love a comment. Tell her you got the link from my blog. It will cheer the poor girl up.
I have to go now. I'm going to polish my silver.