What A Day

I bust open the door, practically collapsing as a result of being weighed down tremendously by the 30 grocery bags stacked up along my limbs, the plastic binding and suffocating my poor, limp arms. The things we do to save a second trip...

I make it to the threshold of the kitchen and lunge in an effort to get the grocery bags as far over towards the goal line of the counter as possible. I guess, at this point, a few short trips back and forth from the counter to the doorway will have to do.

I pause. Calculation time. How many minutes 'til the guests arrive? Forty. Forty?! Forty. Breathe. I can make it in forty.

Grocery sorting... done.

Now to clean up the kitchen. Dishwasher is next in line.

I spend a few seconds planning out the most efficient methods of emptying the dishwasher, which of course cancels out my efficiency by the amount of time I spend planning the efficiency. I must empty the dishes by order of placing groups. Hmm.. Far pantry items first. Silverware second... and you don't want to hear the rest.

I approach the silverware. Apparently whoever rinsed these babies before putting them in here (most likely me) didn't do a very swell job. I put them back in a compartment for further cleansing.

In a rush and not paying attention, by habit I grab the dirty silverware I just put back into the dishwasher and almost place it in the drawer. Then, I realize what's going on. I put them back into a compartment to be completely washed.

In a rush and not paying attention, by habit I grab the dirty...

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Time to move on. Apparently I can't handle dishes.

Do I get ready? Or do I get the food ready?

Or I could do them at the same time... bring my curling iron down to the kitchen? Would hair get in the food? Will I blow an outlet?

Conclusion of the day: Too bad I'm a woman.