[ The fourth and last of my responses to last week's writing prompts from Purple Ink, an eList for Journallers. If you keep an online (or offline) journal, consider joining Purple Ink. ]
Sweet Happy Life
Sort of a continuation of yesterday's prompt:
There is a lot of drudgery, tediousness, and repetition in daily life.
There are plenty of things that all of us have to do in the course of a
day or week that are absolutely no fun at all. Life shouldn‚t
necessarily be one big barrel of laughs, but at the same time, it‚s
important that we not get weighed down by the endlessness of it all.How do you rise above the dailiness? What techniques do you use to help
yourself face down that hypothetical tower of dirty dishes? How do you
diffuse the unpleasantness of certain things that you have to deal with
in your life? Share some of the things that you do to make daily life a
little sweeter.
I mostly ignore or avoid any sense of repetition (unless the things that are
repeating are something I really enjoy).
We're not manic housekeepers. We're not exactly slovenly, but… housework
isn't something we do on a schedule. It's something we do when it needs to
be done. The small jobs we do a little at a time, in a constant manner. Pick
up the living room, fold the lap blanket, toss the recycelables, wipe down
the counter immediately after using it. Bigger jobs get done when something
reaches the "do point". Laundry gets done when the basket is full; dishes are
washed when the dishwasher is full. Laundry and dishes go into the
basket/machine as they need it, keeping the floor and counters clear. Little
by little, a bit at a time, nothing ever really jumps us from a dark corner.
Since we never know when anything major is coming, exactly, we don't have
anything to look "forward to", There's no "Oh, Saturday, vacuuming day. Just
once I don't want to vacuum on Saturday." for us.
I once had a roommate… she believed in vacuuming every Saturday morning.
This was an apartment with three young adult women – two grad students and
one senior undergrad – who were rarely home; no kids, no pets, no parties. At
8:30 am, every Saturday morning, vazooORM outside my bedroom door. She kept
trying to insist I should take a turn. I kept reminding her that it was I who
owned the vacuum cleaner. (I sold it to her when I moved out).
Occasionally, as I am sorting whites from darks and tossing them into the
wash, I'll think "Too bad we have to keep doing laundry over and over again".
But then I think, "Well, I like my clothes. I don't want to wear disposable
clothing and use paper plates. A little bit of work here and there for
maintenance isn't so bad". And then, with the thought, the sorting is over
(two people simply don't generate _that_ much laundry, the lid is down on the
machine, and I'm out of the laundry room.
And next, while the washing machine runs (consider daily life in the 1800s
without all these delightful labor saving devices!), while the laundry goes
'round, I go engage in one of the repeating daily "tasks" I really enjoy –
chasing the cats, catching them, and petting their furry tummies!
Slightly Off KIlter 