I’m zoning out with the water running.
It’s mid-morning and I’m doing the dishes. Isobel swears by doing them at night, but the tactile nature of it just does something for me when done in the morning. Much like coffee, it’s one of many things that help to jump-start my system. You know, stuff like doing the wordle, connections, or the crossword. When I face the puzzle of doing the dishes in the morning, it makes for a day that starts well and just keeps building from there. And I find that incredibly ironic.
Truth be told, I actually hate doing the dishes.
Can’t stand it.
Peeling my eyes from the window in front of me, I make a mental note to close it before I leave. Then I put down the knife I’m holding on a dish towel to my right, and reach through the much-too-hot-but-not-quite-burning water for the faucet beyond. With the water finally off, I take in the silence for a minute.
Maybe I hate doing the dishes because I worked the dish pit in the service industry once upon a time and it’s the worst job I’ve ever had. Though, it’s also the job that probably taught me the most about life. That’s crazy to think about.
Doing the dishes is one of life’s certainties, even though everyone only mentions death and taxes when they talk about stuff like that. There’s no getting out of it. I mean, I guess you could hire people to do the dishes for you, but then something else would just become your new “doing the dishes” and you’d hate that, too. And as much as I hate doing them, I’m not sure I’ll ever outsource it for that very reason (if given the chance).
The drain seems to gurgle its approval.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
252/365
Are you a dishes at night or dishes in the morning kind of person? Why?
onward.
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