Housework

Blurg. I've spent most of my day doing two things I really hate. Grocery shopping and laundry. I have three children, a husband, a cat, and a dog. That doesn't sound like much, but honestly I feel like I feed and do laundry for a platoon of dirty marines. Dirty, hungry marines.

When I go grocery shopping I haul hundreds of dollars of food into the cart until it's overflowing and I have to be careful not to go over any bumps so the whole thing doesn't fall over. Then I haul all the food onto the conveyer belt, then it all goes back into the cart. Then into the car. Then out of the car and into the house. Then I have to unload it all and put it away. Talk about a workout!

After that I have to do my children's laundry. You'd think three little girls whose combined weight is less than a hundred pounds wouldn't have so darn much laundry but I swear they must change clothes three times a day. I do laundry just for them 3 times a week and could probably do it more often.

What does this have to do with writing? Not a darn thing, but it's all I did today and I need to complain about it to someone. Aren't you the lucky souls who got picked?