...while wiping the counters

I knew it was going to break. I looked at the thing and said "that cup is too close to the edge of the counter, it's going to fall and break." So why didn't I move it? Why didn't I scoot it three inches back? What kind of overwhelming laziness took over me? So here's the mess and holy cow, it must have landed beautifully because it has covered the entire kitchen floor with even distribution. So instead of taking the two seconds to scoot the cup back or, God forbid, wash it and put it away, I now have the task of sweeping the floor at least twice, vaccuuming the floor repeatedly, scouring every surrounding room to make sure glass didn't magically shoot from wall to wall and end up in the basement like it has been known to do, and then I get to worry about the invisible shards of glass that cling to the cracks inside the grout, just waiting to pop up one day into a little foot. There are no tweezers small enough for those buggers. I have such wonderful foresight as a mom and a housewife. I don't know why I don't take advantage of this gift to save myself from these disasters. Two seconds and three inches could have rescued me. Two seconds and three inches. Well then, let the cleaning commence!

...while cleaning house

I love it when I get it all done! YES! The laundry, the dishes, the kitchen, the vacuuming, the mopping, the sterilizing, the bathing, the baking, the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the dusting. ALL OF IT! DONE! Ahhhhhhh.... those were the days.

...while driving home

No no no no, where's the rest of my candy bar. I couldn't have finished it, stay calm. Empty wrapper? Come on, I drove all the way to target to satisfy this craving only to forget that I was eating it and accidentally finished it all without savoring it? What was I doing? Talking to Lyla, that's what I was doing. Well then it's her fault, that candy bar didn't count. I get to go back and get a new one because that certainly didn't count.

...while not doing laundry

So here I am, sitting at the top of the stairs. Still in my pijamas, which is nothing new. How can I get out of this laundry thing that needs to be done. I can smell the wicked chore at hand and I can feel the weight of those friggen hampers crushing my lap as I sit here. Please pick up your butt. Grab your feet and drag yourself into the bedroom. No no, don't stare at the piles of clothes and cry as you shake your fist at the sky. MUSIC! I need music. Or maybe caffeine. Or a maid. Or a slave. Or I could just sit here at the top of the stairs trying to think of some clever way to motivate myself. The images in my head of other people doing my laundry isn't helping.

...while doing the dishes...

The dog is chewing on toy horse. Eh, that ugly, fuzzy little horse. I hate that thing. Then again, Clara will FLIP if she sees that it has been shredded. Still, the dog is occupied. Will Clara notice if the toy is gone? I could let the dog finish eating the toy and get rid of all evidence so Clara will be none the wiser, or I could satisfy my frustration with this mess by showing her the destroyed toy and firmly saying, "SEE!" This is what happens when you leave your toys out on the floor! Sucks doesn't it? I don't know how many times I have told you to clean up your toys. Im not your slave! I don't follow you around and put away the trail of toys that meanders through the living room. Don't know what to tell you, its not my fault." I'll compromise. Ill clean up the mess after Dory eats the toy, then I will tell Clara that the dog got one of her horses but I don't know which one and next time she should remember to pick up her things. That way, it will go in one ear and out the other and the whole situation will be null and void, without incident and with neutral feelings. How boring.