I bought a robot.
Let me start again. I hate to admit it, but I can’t get it all done. I can’t get the laundry and the shopping and the present buying, not to mention the decorating and the wrapping. I can’t. And I don’t want to do these things and feel like they are a chore. THEY ARE NOT! Ok, maybe laundry is a chore, but housework doesn’t bug me at all. Now that I don’t have tiny children running around, it doesn’t.
So. I BOUGHT MYSELF A ROBOT. I bought the robot because for me, dirty floors mean I won’t get on the floor and stretch on my yoga mat without feeling gross. Dirty floors covered in dog hair means I won’t sit in my tub and soak, because just knowing there is kitty litter on the floor makes me not want to bathe. Hair or dust bunnies on the floor will make me feel like wrapping presents is dumb, because hair will get in all of them, and that tape will have dog hair static clung to it. So. I bought myself a robot. And if “not being enough” in my own measuring up system of life means I can’t work full time and run a business part time and write part time and have a clean house without owning a robot…so be it.