Today, I exerted my Type A-ism over the only thing I can control right now, my own house. I got up, made coffee, cranked the Dance Workout playlist on Spotify, and started cleaning.
I vacuumed, steam cleaned the kitchen, dining room, and bathroom floors, did laundry and put it away, stripped my bed and put my feather mattress out to sun, emptied and reloaded the dishwasher, washed and replaced my slipcovers, took out the trash. Every little thing felt like a stitch to hold the fabric of life together.
There's more that needs to be done, shelves to dust, a piano and an organ to detail, a shower curtain to replace. Once I'm finished inside, there is a whole world of yard work. I am going to hold this line.
What's the alternative?
No comments:
Post a Comment
And then you said.....