Joy at the End of the Day

There are dirty tissue piles here and there, that haven't quite made it to the trash can.  There are pajama pieces strewn about, Christian's top and bottoms in the living room, Eliana's top on the bottom of the stairs.  The dishes aren't done, and the laundry pile is as big as ever.  Our bed is piled high with clean sorted laundry, waiting to be carried to the closet in the other room.  There are shoes everywhere at the back door, from the rack and then within a ten-mile radius.  Okay, ten-foot radius.  The ironing board remains up in the dining room, because of course it's the classiest place to keep your ironing board.  Also your sewing machine. 

My house says a lot about me, I'm afraid, and yet here I sit, wasting time on the computer.  I avoid the work.  I know this needs to change, and I think it will, but I do have to do something.  It won't change all by itself.  Meanwhile, my thoughts tend to go to those bad places.  "Why haven't you done the dishes?  It would be easier if you had unloaded the dishwasher earlier!  Can you just put that clean laundry away?!  Sweep already!  How long since you mopped your floors?  Cleaned your toilets?  Dusted?"  Then I tell myself,"But I've been making dinner each night!  Ha!  So there!"  I guess small victories are victories, nonetheless.

And just when I am feeling pretty cruddy, and head to the kitchen to finally start the dishes...

Joy enters in an unexpected way in an unanticipated moment. 

And now I have tissues and dishes to take care of...