It’s 2pm on Sunday afternoon, and I’m having a quiet day at home. I say quiet, but there is the constant rumble of the washing machine and tumble drier in the background.
I am investing today in the week ahead. The washing machine is on it’s fourth load of the day, and the pile of clean dry clothes is growing by the hour. The house is relatively tidy for a change, the washing up is done, the kitchen is clear, and the television is switched off (shock, horror).
I’m sat in the front room - which is also tidy - at the desk, which is clear, writing this after having eaten my lunch already, which has already been cleared away and washed up.
If you’re wondering why I’m bothering to write about these seemingly mundane observations, it’s because they are not the “norm” in this house. If I had elected to visit W’s parents with her this weekend, as I have the last two Sundays, I would have come home to the prospect of washing, drying and ironing clothes for the morning. I would have had to wash up, and tidy up. Reclaiming this one day for myself has meant that we are ahead of the game for the first time in weeks.
We both work full time. Compared to many people we probably work more hours. I leave the house at 7am each morning at the moment, and don’t arrive home until at least 7pm. W leaves at about 8:30am, and doesn’t get home until 7pm either. After hard days at work it doesn’t take much for the washing up not to get done - the groceries not to get bought - clothes to not get washed. The house goes to hell in a handcart at quite some speed too.
When the busy days stack up, you suddenly find yourself getting up at 5:30am in order to iron clothes, and not eating your evening meal until 9pm because you had to go out and buy the food to cook.
The worrying thing is that this routine has become normal for us. We prop each other up from day to day, and catch each other when we stumble. Each day falls into the next, each week into the next, each month into the next.
Today is a welcome respite. I am home. Catching up. Being here. Relaxing at last.
Postscript (written on Monday morning) - had to go and buy cat food at 10:45pm last night. How typical is that?