Ive been working on a college paper with a frenzy equal to chocolate cravings during my period. Its not pretty, and my husband has learned to keep a safe distance. During this paper-writing mania I have barely lifted a finger to clean the house. I hate a dirty house, but the cobwebs are actually rather decorative, and Halloween is only a short distance down the calendar.
I was up way past my bedtime last night, but finished my rough draft. Now that I had some momentary downtime, I thought Id finally tackle the housework. I brought down the cleaning cloths, and assembled the cleaning solutions. Then I stared at broom and dust pan. Somewhere in my why-dont-I-ever-think-I deserve-a-break mind, I realized I didnt want to clean the house on the first afternoon in weeks I havent been glued to the computer. I left the rags pouting on the table and spent the next hour reading a book. I almost managed not to feel guilty. Almost. And it was the best part of my day.