Sam gets up at 4:30, and I sleep in ’til 7:30, almost every morning. “Delicious sleep,” he said to me recently, “you get 780 more hours a year than I do. That’s like a whole month.” It’s actually 32.5 days.
How adorable I must be, drowsily wishing him a great day as I snuggle back into the pillows and drifting back off for another couple of hours, as Sam departs, his sleep envy fermenting into mild resentment. It took a day to sink in, and so this morning I set my iPhone alarm for 6:30, with productivity in mind.
The goal is to focus on a few (gulp) chores, or a simple home improvement project that doesn’t require neighbor-waking power tools. I tried it for the first time this morning, making the following findings:
- We have dishes for 12, and the dishwasher holds plates and glasses for both of us to have three meals, including pots and pans. The sink is no longer an appropriate rest stop on their way to the dishwasher, especially now, since the So Cal Summer heat drives ants inside just for water. No need to provide a buffet to go with it. So, on the third night, the dishwasher goes on, and in the morning, the clean dishes go back into the cupboard.
- Three small plastic bins in the garage, next to the washer and dryer, hold a load of laundry each. One darks, one whites, one dry cleaning. I’m removing the dirty clothes hamper from the bedroom (which is bad feng shui anyway) and instead using it for clean towels in the bathroom, which frees up most of the space in our linen closet for bed linens. If I start a load of wash when I get up, it will be ready for the dryer by the time I leave.
These are going to be big changes for both Sam and me. I will admit to having been more than a little spoiled in the chores department, as a kid, and while I was a little conscientious about picking up after myself, I could have done a much better job. The little mounds of papers and clothing persist, but I’m set on teaching this old dog some new tricks.
I realize this post, and others like it that are sure to follow, are a little tame for Lovesick Billy, but heck, this is real life in Hollywood. Glamorous, hunh? Maybe I’ll do these morning chores naked.