Some tasks simply must
wait until enough time becomes available before I can tackle them. Even then,
my frame of mind needs to zero in on the “time plus effort” equation to
evaluate if I really want to take on the chore.
Yesterday, I set
about accomplishing the housework that no one else sees, that takes days and
days to finish, but often results in the most satisfaction. I spent two and a
half hours in the master bathroom taking every item out of the linen closet,
sorting through each storage bin for expiration dates of over the counter
remedies, organizing hair clasps and head bands, and thoroughly cleaning under
the bathroom sink. I dusted every slat on the blinds and buffed every surface
to a shine.
My master plan
continues into our bedroom today. With vacuum attachments in hand, feather
duster nearby, and music swirling around me, I will tackle every drawer!
Nineteen in all. I’ll sort through two trunks, and reclaim the closet. I will mercilessly
chuck old panty hose into the trash, critically evaluate my affection for a
favorite and faded nightie, and decided that calendars dating back three years
no longer hold importance.
I’ll tax my muscles
as I inch heavy furniture away from the walls to attack dust bunnies that have
bred several litters. My fingers may ache by the end of the day from polishing
every surface, but I’ll celebrate smugly when the work winds down because I’ll
know the job’s well done.
And tomorrow? On to
the next room and another full assault until I’ve conquered every little
nook-n-cranny within the house.
Copyright 2013 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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