I woke up this morning feeling a bit under the weather. I think my ickiness was a combination of adjusting to my new workout regimen (most likely the topic of my next post), my body responding to the chiropractic adjustments I've recently started getting, and a dose of laziness. I felt worn out and irritable, and the idea of making a To Do List for the day was not appealing to me. So I gave in...for a while.
I spent the first few hours of my morning (yes, I did write hours, don't judge me) watching episodes of The Office online. I just laid there in bed, with my dog cuddled up beside me, and basked in the epitome of "vegging". And then my stomach started to growl. So I paused my current episode and went downstairs to grab an english muffin with honey. ~Side note: if you've never drizzled honey on a cinnamon raisin english muffin, I urge you to try it. It's one of the healthiest "sweet treats" around, and totally hits the spot!~
As I walked past my bathroom on the way to the kitchen, I remembered that I had planned to add Clean The Bathroom to today's To Do List. My first reaction was that it could wait until tomorrow. But something grabbed me again on the way back to my bedroom. It was probably the light bouncing off the water-spotted mirror, or maybe it was a tumbleweed of dog hair rolling across the bathroom floor--I swear, my dog sheds enough in one week to make me question weather or not our floors are, in fact, carpeted. Whatever it was that caught my eye, I couldn't shake the nagging in my mind that told me to grab a broom, a sponge, and some cleaner and get the job done.
It took all of 15 minutes to clean my bathroom (It's not very big). There was nothing extremely laborious about it. And when it was all finished, and I stepped back to examine my work, I felt good. This is not the first time I've cleaned our bathroom. In fact, in the prior dividing up of house chores between my husband and I, the bathroom was always on my list. But there was something different about today's cleaning. It was no longer a chore; it was my work. And I took pride in my work.
Several people have mentioned to me recently that they use proper titles for their roles as house wives. One is an Estate Manager. Another, a Domestic Engineer. These terms might sound like silly ways of glorifying a realistic position as keeper of the home. But today, I felt the weight of these fancy titles as I gained a new sense of dignity and satisfaction in the job that I do. When my husband arrives home, he walks across freshly swept floors. He looks into a clean and organized kitchen. And when he needs to relieve himself, he does so in a shiny, disinfected bathroom that is free of little black dog hairs!
***Special thanks to my first follower, Erin! Thanks for your support, it means so much!***
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