"Nora, none of these socks match," my brother says, horror suffusing every word.
"What d'you mean? They're all argyle."
"What d'you mean? They're all argyle."
"You've got to be kidding me." He drops one orphan sock - on my bed. "How do you live like this?
Yes, dear readers, I'm afraid it's time to confess; I am the very model of a scatter-brained writer. My socks don't match. My shirts must be no-iron, or I wear them wrinkled. If I find a mug of cold tea next to my computer, I'm apt to pour out the leftovers and make more right in that cup - or worse, just drink last night's tea. If I put a peanut butter-based dish on a plate, I'll use that same plate for another peanut butter-based meal two days later.
There are just so many more interesting things to do. Sure, if I blast some music, I can force myself to fold laundry or load the dishwasher or shelve my books or clean up my desk...but halfway through the laundry I'll have a great idea, and cleaning my desk inevitably unearths something fascinating to distract me. If I really cared, I suppose I'd do it (as evidenced by frequent running of the washing machine and periodic dish-washing binges), but for the most part, I don't.
What's your writerly housekeeping style? Do you leave it all for later, or can you harness mindless tasks for brainstorming? (Or are you lucky enough to have someone who does it for you?)
Yes, dear readers, I'm afraid it's time to confess; I am the very model of a scatter-brained writer. My socks don't match. My shirts must be no-iron, or I wear them wrinkled. If I find a mug of cold tea next to my computer, I'm apt to pour out the leftovers and make more right in that cup - or worse, just drink last night's tea. If I put a peanut butter-based dish on a plate, I'll use that same plate for another peanut butter-based meal two days later.
There are just so many more interesting things to do. Sure, if I blast some music, I can force myself to fold laundry or load the dishwasher or shelve my books or clean up my desk...but halfway through the laundry I'll have a great idea, and cleaning my desk inevitably unearths something fascinating to distract me. If I really cared, I suppose I'd do it (as evidenced by frequent running of the washing machine and periodic dish-washing binges), but for the most part, I don't.
What's your writerly housekeeping style? Do you leave it all for later, or can you harness mindless tasks for brainstorming? (Or are you lucky enough to have someone who does it for you?)
3 comments:
Daughter does the dishes and Husband does the laundry. The rest is up to me. Which is why the dust bunnies are threatening to take over. But hey, at least I have clean clothes and dishes. Seriously, though, my portion of the housework piles up until one day I clean everything in a mad frenzy.
If I need something mindless to do while I brainstorm, I crochet. ;o)
Love the shoutout! But seriously, when I come home for spring break, things are gonna change around your house.
Love always,
your bro
Thankfully my family does most of the housework and all I'm left is my room, my poor, poor room. If my clothes didn't get clean I wouldn't have anything to wear, it takes bribery and ultimatums to get me to shop.
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