I’m always tired by the time I get to the weekend. Not, yawn yawn ready for bed tired, but “my bones ache and my brain keeps shorting out” tired. I try, however, to maintain some productivity at the weekend, in spite of the fact I have been known just to walk from room to room with something random in my hand, unable to settle but also unable to focus.
This weekend, I determined I would take advantage of the good weather and do some washing. I hoped that, inspired by this, it would also lead to me putting away my clean washing from earlier in the week, which is still sitting in a pile on top of the tumble dryer. And the washing from the weekend before that, which is still sitting in a pile on the sofa.
Gentle Readers, do you know what I did this weekend?
I took apart my dishwasher filter, cleaned it, put it back together, then used a dishwasher cleaner to clean the dishwasher before replenishing the dishwasher salt and rinse air.
Important, yes. Urgent? No. On my to-do list? Also no.
Do you know what I did not do? I did not a) do any washing b) do any drying and c) I most certainly did not move the pile of clean clothes from the top of the tumble dryer.
It’s like my brain decided “cleaning” was on the agenda, caught sight of the first appliance I came to, and applied the protocol to the appliance. “Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning….ah! The dishwasher! Let’s clean that!”
I did not fold work clothes and put them away neatly. I did not make sure I had clean underwear for the week ahead. I did not hang up the two dresses that need to be hung up so that I can avoid having to iron them.
But I did pick crusty old food out of the dishwasher filter, so I did accomplish something. And when I turn up to work in rags, that will have to be enough for my colleagues, to know that I may be dressed inappropriately for work, but I am eating off plates that were washed in the world's cleanest dishwasher. And that, Gentle Readers, is what really matters.
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