A True Story

Why I Get Nothing Done: A True Story

My sewing room is a mess from the weekend's activities, so I start to clean it.

Kicking up dust causes my allergies to start up. I sneeze. My nose starts to run.

No tissues in sight, so I go to the laundry room which is also the "pantry" where all the extra "stuff" gets stored. I grab a box of tissues off the shelf.

I see where the kids have simply dropped groceries,
in bags,
on the floor,
in front of the shelves.
I put the groceries away on the shelves.

I throw away the trash and excess wrappings that have been tossed into the corner. I notice that the canning supplies that Hannah ransacked yesterday to make/can her grape juice are scattered. I straighten up that shelf.

The washing machine beeps that the load is done so I empty it to a basket and go to the hall to get a hamper to start another load.

I see that someone has simply brought down their dirty laundry hamper and has not sorted it into the proper wash load hampers.
 (But hey, I am thankful they at least brought it downstairs!)

I sort the hamper. I find a shirt that needs mending.

As I walk out of the room with the shirt to head for the sewing room, I meet Rachel and ask her to hang out the wet load. She says she is looking for socks, so I ask her to pair the odd sock basket as well.

I walk out of the laundry room, completely forgetting the tissues...