I am not trying to rebel. I’m not a slacker. I just can’t get to the dishes every day. Yes, I work from home. But the operative word is WORK. Pretend that I’m not at home all day, maybe that will help you understand why the dishes are still piled up on the countertop, why the countertop is covered with peanut butter and jelly from baby’s sandwich that I rushed to make to get her to daycare on time, why the half-sliced orange and half-sliced avocado is still on the cutting board. And why the clean dishes are still in the dishwasher and not in their proper places in cupboards and drawers.
Believe me, I do see the mess. I see it when I rush back into the house after dropping baby at daycare. I cringe. But if I stop now to wipe and wash, I’ll forget the brilliant idea knocking around in my brain about to leak out of my head into the vortex of forgetfulness. And I swear this is the next big idea that will bring additional income into our household. I see the mess as I glance up from my computer now and then to let my eyes rest for a few moments, to stretch my hands and fingers so I don’t get crippled with carpal tunnel. I consider cleaning for a moment, but email is calling and client projects are due.



It is nighttime, but in Alaska, it is still light. I’m exhausted. Then suddenly, I remember that I forgot to post to this blog today. Where did the day go? And how did I run out of time?



