Disaster Area Stabilized

It is interesting to be a new wife with a new job. Life comes at you fast and furious and things get left undone that would otherwise be...well...somewhat better taken care of. Take for example the kitchen. Lately the only two reasons I would stop to clean dishes is if there were none clean and I absolutely needed one and/or my kitchen was beginning to smell like something died in it and was now past the rigormortis stage. However the rare event of dish-washing comes about in my house, believe me, it has been few and far between moments...to the point that the task became rediculously daunting. For over a week now, I have eyed my kitchen with disgust and, too tired to do anything about it, took up residence in my bedroom. It wasn't until two days ago that my attitude about the dishwashing subject began to change. At work, I am required to wash the dishes after cooking a meal for the individuals in my apartment. I noticed suddenly that I had been avoiding cooking for my dear husband because of the dish problem. I began then to stew over the dishes. I obviously was taking better care of strangers than of my own family. I also began to think about my mother (who, if she is reading or listening to this post, is probably dying with disgust) and how she always has taught us that cleaning up right away after dirtying dishes & anything in general is much easier than waiting for food to harden, mold to form, and smells to begin issuing from plates, cups, counter tops, and floors before cleaning. So, today with my new philosophy and a little guilt added to the mix I decided finally to take on the dish problem. It began as a leisurely experience as I soaked my hands in hot soapy water and listened to the radio. That lasted the first two sink-fulls of water. Then the wear and tear of washing began to manifest itself. More and more tired I became, and more and more difficult the dishes became (mainly because I left the worst for last). The last batch of dishes was almost impossible to finish as I yearned to come and write on my blog about my dish experience, but I stopped myself from leaving the kitchen until the final dish was finished. Hallelujah! Lesson well learned, Mom.



Now the laundry...