Today it was difficult to pull myself out of bed. I kept thinking about what was waiting for me on the other side of our bedroom door (actually, on this side also). A messy, dirty house. Messy is one thing - we run through, sometimes singing the "clean-up, clean-up" song, and can take care of it pretty quickly. Dirty, on the other hand, is, well - hard work. And it's Monday. I've always thought, deep in my warped way of thinking, that Monday was the second day of rest God created.
I have a few ladies coming over tomorrow night. Now, these ladies are friends. I know they would come into my home and find it dirty and not judge me; but my psyche tells me I must clean. There are two reasons I CLEAN my house. One, because company is coming over. It's an excellent motivation to my lazy self to get mop and bucket out.
The second reason is a trip. I can't leave on a trip unless my house is clean. What if? What if? What if?
What if someone gets sick on the trip and we need something from home? What if someone has to come into my home to get that something for me or take care of something? What if this happens and my house is dirty or messy?
Or what if we die? What if I'm lying on the side of the road with twisted metal all around and my last thought is, "Mama, my house is dirty." What will people think? Or worse, what will Mama think?
We don't go on trips often and with everyone's busy lives company is somewhat rare. So I have discovered as age creeps up on me that lately there is a new "What if?" worming its way into my already muddled brain.
I go to bed at night and this new "What if?" begins to sing its song. What if someone breaks in and murders us all in our sleep? What if the police come into my home and in their report they write something like this - "Hard to tell if victims' home was ramshackled or not, messiness could be due to laziness. Hard to tell."
What if we all die in a fire and the fireman's report reads something like this - "Hard to determine cause of fire. Home was obviously dirty. Hard to tell."
Don't laugh ladies. I have per conversation proof that many of you have these same thoughts. I have been in a pact with friends before that if a certain one died while under the knife that we left would rush to her home and clean it before the hearse had the house in sight.
As you can tell my brain is tired, warped, and muddled. Funny, just like my home. Gotta go, mop and bucket await. And, "What if?"
Want some more funnies? Read here for some good laughs. Thanks Amber at http://therunamuck.com/