I’d Love To Chat, But The Tub’s Dirty

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I hate cleaning my house.

I’ll do anything to get out of it.  I’d rather write 10,000 words straight and skip dinner than face a dirty house. Sometimes I think it’s because I’ve gotten older so it’s like cooking those textbook-beautiful, gourmet meals when you first learn to cook:  I’m so over it.  But then the other day I was going through some writings I did in my early twenties – I should’ve been scrubbing the toilets at the time, but like I say: I’ll do anything to get out of house cleaning. Turns out my twenty-something-self hated “domestic engineering” just as much as I do now.  Here’s a little ditty I wrote when I probably should’ve been waxing the floors:

Now I lay me down to sleep.

I pray the Lord my house to keep.

If I should die before the dawn,

please forgive my unmown lawn.

The dirty dishes in the sink,

the laundry which I’m sure must stink.

It’s been awhile since I’ve done the floors,

cleaned the windows, dusted, and much more.

Lord, if you take my soul without warning,

please know I planned to clean in the morning.

Do you avoid cleaning your house?  How do you motivate yourself to (in the words of Nike) “just do it?” Please leave me a comment so I’ll be busy answering it and it’ll give me a good reason not to go vacuum.