The Fix

The Fix

The vacuum cleaner is running but I don’t seem to be vacuuming anything. I find myself holding the wand to the floor, but just standing here. Somehow the sound of the vacuum has mesmerized me. What was I even thinking?

“Get back to work.” I say out loud, as I glance at the clock, almost nine. I should have finished this room already. Though who cares? Nobody notices if I clean the house or not.

I suppose that’s not really true. They don’t notice if I clean the house. They would notice if I didn’t clean it. The realization shakes me a bit. Am I that taken for granted that they only notice the things I do for them on the rare occasions when I fail to do them? Well, that’s mean, true, but mean. I’m sure it’s not the way it sounds.

Yes, they do notice when I don’t do things but only because it means there’s something off. Something bothering me, something off, or some reason. It makes them worry that I’m not alright, not that the thing I always do didn’t get done. Right? Am I right?

Good gravy I’m in a mood today. What did I have for breakfast? Ah, there’s the key.

Sylvia needed a ride to school because she had to bring her science project. I had to drive her in my pajamas, because she would be late if I took the time to get dressed.

I’d forgotten all about it because as soon as I got home, Jean White called to remind me I had to bring snacks to the PTA meeting, which meant I had to go shopping this afternoon instead of tomorrow. I forgot to eat breakfast!

Vacuum off, Frosted Mini Wheats here I come!
Life is good again.