Friday after work I take the bus and make a list in my head of things to do for the weekend. Saturday’s chores are washing, food shopping, and straightening the house. Sunday’s list includes cleaning, cooking, and prepping for the upcoming week. And if there are family or friend functions I fit them into the schedule. Nowhere on my list is there time to relax. Consequently, on Mondays it feels like I've worked a seven-day work week.
Armed with my mental schedule this past Saturday, I made the boo-boo of boo-boo mistakes. I turned on the television.
Except ... now I’m hooked, wanting to see the winner of ten thousand dollars. I plan my time. Next commercial run downstairs, put a load into Mr. Maytag, run upstairs, watch the rest of the show. When show is done, turn off TV, get clothes from wash, put in dryer, and continue with the rest of my chores. Yes! That’s my plan.
Until ... the next episode highlights are shown. I map out the next hour. Carry dirty load downstairs, pull clothes from dryer and put in empty basket to take upstairs. Transfer washed clothes to dryer. Put dirty clothes into washer. Rush upstairs and hope the same commercial time slot is still on.
I have been sucked into the world of television programming like a vacuum sucking up dirt by pros. I need to break the cycle, but like a junky on drugs I want more.
It’s six o’clock. Dinner time.
“What’s for dinner?” my husband yells from downstairs.
“I don’t know, buy something,” I yell back. “I’ve washed eight loads of laundry and haven’t had time to do anything else.”
“I didn’t know we had that much clothes to wash,” he says.
We didn’t, we had three, but after watching eight episodes of Chopped I am pooped, especially after juggling my precious time between visiting Mr. Maytag and lying down watching Chopped.
See, I told you, there’s no time on my schedule to relax!