If you came to my house a few years back it would’ve been a lot cleaner. You wouldn’t have seen dust bunnies on the stairs or cobwebs in the corner. The top of my lawyers bookcase would’ve been gleaming. The floors would be freshly vacuumed and mopped, the counters clear, and everything would be in it’s place.
See, I used to do a much better job.* I would clean every single Saturday or Sunday without fail. Wash all the sheets, shake the rugs, mop, etc. But now, well, now I write instead of clean. Sort of like I write instead watch tv. And even, occasionally, write instead of work (hey, that’s what personal days are for, right?).
I'll admit sometimes it bothers me - the dust not the skipping work - especially when there's swirls of dog hair floating down the stairs as I pass. Or I step on something sticky (and I HATE sticky). At this point I usually get out the dustpan, or sponge. Usually. But like I said; I'm not the housekeeper I was.
I am, however, a much better writer and I don't know about you but I'd much rather be known for that rather than my housekeeping skills. I mean, it's not like there's any awards or prizes for keeping a clean house. I've never heard of "Housekeeper of the Year." And you'd never see "She was a good mother and a great housekeeper" written on anyone's gravestone, right?
But this might be nice:
She wrote well.
*I also had a vacuum cleaner that worked but we’ve already talked about that.