You Otta See It...

Wow, as the title says, you really otta see my house... It kind of slipped to the wayside over the past week along with my drive. Yep I have none and the dishes have long sinced piled up! Do I have words of wisdom for my one follower? How can I give any wisdom? I have fallen into a rut and while I know the best thing to do is grow a pair and just do it, but I havent got the energy to even sprout a hair.
I have found, even though I am only a part-time housewife, this is the hardest job on the planet. I stress about whether or not the hubby ate breakfast, why the bread didnt rise, the mounting pile of clothes, and what to make for dinner that will wow. I am stressed over all of it. And the funny thing is I am constantly reminded of what my father used to say, "a room is not, truly ever clean." While my spacial side says, he's full of shit and lets try, my logical side says he's right. Even if you spent hours cleaning the same room, dust particles will still fly or the dogs will still shed at least one hair.
The women who actually are housewives, and who do it even moderatly well, have my highest praise. You are amazing! I want to be you! And of course, what medications are you taking. No seriously, if not medications, what is your secret. Please tell me. And those women who do this job while raising children...you are not human, you are angels.
Maybe the women of the 1960's and 70's had it right, get the hell out of the house and earn like a man. Money is great, and so is a boss. A boss gives you an agenda, tells you what to do and when to do it. Didnt meet the deadline? Stay late and let the hubby take care of dinner. Yes its a beautiful thing having a boss to be afraid of, because all I have is my husband.
My husband, while he is a wonderful man, was raised by one of those Super Moms of the 80's. She worked, sometimes several jobs at once, and still came home and took care of dinner and the house. I love the man I call my husband, but because he was raised by a WonderWoman he does not question my tactics when it comes to the house. He believes I am simply waiting until tomorrow. Maybe, tomorrow I will do the dishes. Maybe tomorrow I will mop the kitchen floor, vaccum the living room, take out the garbage, and dissenfect the fridge all before four with a rib roast and twice baked potatoes ready when he comes through the door.
I can handle the rib roast and the twice baked potatoes just fine, I am a kickass cook and always have time for that. But the rest...the rest might just have to wait until tomorrow.