Recently, I've been hunkering down and working on my essay, and have to confess that I have no idea how I'm going to go back to school and balance my normal "work" at home if I can't even get the application together without the house falling apart. It's slow going and sort of exasperating, the level of organization it takes to run a house. To be honest, I rather loathe it. I was not cut out to be a homemaker, I think, and we will be happiest someday if we could outsource all the parts of homemaking that don't feed us.
Ha! Wouldn't that be lovely?! Not going to happen for this chic. I am trying to create a sense of purpose and joy in undertaking the things around the house I most detest. I don't enjoy searching for lost socks. I rather don't appreciate scrubbing pink Dora toothpaste from the light switch in the upstairs bathroom. I could do without rehanging the front shingle that fell off the house during the last hurricane. I wouldn't mind someone else doing these things. Somedays I actually wonder if I could conjure up the money and person to come in and take over. Again, this just isn't going to happen. I usually whine about it for a while, then go make something delicious in the kitchen and feel that all's right with the world again.
Am looking forward to having a mini retreat this weekend at a borrowed beach house. No children or Cute Husband, no real responsibilities, and a world of quiet. I am looking forward to reconnecting with Spirit, watching some dvds of Downton Abbey, and catching up with my favorite soul sisters. Most likely I'll be touching base from there with you all, too.
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