My mood has improved but all I want to do is paint. It’s not possible right now. I have prior longstanding obligations to attend. The refridgerator is humming. I wait for the haagen dazs to soften. I’m going to have to go hard at this kitchen in the morning. What can us ladies do to escape the slavery of these dirty rotten kitchens? I wish there was an invisible person who came in 3 times a day, after every meal time. The kitchen would be glistening. No sticky stuff on the granite, the counters would be dry not sopping wet. The floor, do I even need to explain the beautifully clean dry non sticky floor? Maybe someday they will invent one of these magic creatures. The beautiful creature on this picture is my girl Billy. She’s relaxing. Dessert is Finished. I must go now.
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Pain, it keeps peering its nasty little head into my body. The weekend. Sometimes it’s great. It doesn’t change my work load, seven days a week I’m up around 6am with work to do. My day ends at 8pm. I keep going, pushing through. I say fuck it a lot. You know, the dishes, laundry, shit all over the place. I just let it go sometimes. It’s hard on the weekends. Expectations and let downs. The worst times are when your partner is super tired from the work week. People who work a regular job, five long days consider Saturdays and Sundays real rest days. I can’t take a rest. I can when Ramona’s here, but she’s only here 3 days part time and the hours go by so fast. I know I’m lucky to have help at all. But I’m working in my studio or doing chores or going grocery shopping. I always have the responsibility of the house and Jack and Fiona and Billy and cooking dinner for my family. You can tell I don’t feel good today. It’s muggy, I want to do nothing for the rest of the day. That’s not an option. I’m drinking a White Ale. The babies are waking up from their nap. I got about an hour break. Alan went for a massage so I had bit of alone time. The babies light up my life. We took them to the park, they were so cute. I don’t think it makes any sense to bring your kid to the park and tell them not to get dirty. I heard a mom constantly telling her girls not to get in the yucky mud. It’s dumb trying to keep your kids clean at all. It’s a complete waste of energy. They are dirty. Just bring a change of clothes and some wipes. There’s a tip for you. Just let them get as messy as they want, then clean them off and change them. I don’t stay clean when I’m hiking or working in my studio. I get dirty. Sunday, still muggy. Alan made an Irish breakfast. He’s reading to Jack and Fiona now, “Where’s Spot?” and then “Polar Bear Polar Bear.” It’s hard to concentrate on writing. I could go into another room but that would seem anti-social, which is exactly how I feel. I’m also too tired and Lazy to relocate my lap top and coffee. I’m in a bad mood. I think that’s O.K. to write here? I just need a whole morning, day, and night to relax.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 