The dishwasher needs emptying.
There is another load waiting to go in.
The brief view of the bottom of the laundry basket, a fleeting glimpse, is now obscured after a whizz around the bedrooms revealed that my children are either the dirtiest children in the world,or the cleanest, based on the amount of laundry they generate.
There is a wash on the line, another in the dryer ( sssshhh, don’t tell himself!)
There is batchcooking going on and dinner menus being planned, shopping lists are compiled and a very neat ‘to-do’ list.
There is organising to be done so that tomorrow, or the next day, we will be sorted, we will have caught up, we will have finally caught that elusive tail that we are chasing.
And yet, we never seem to get there, we never reach that point when we can draw a line under the to-do list, smug in the knowledge that we have ticked off every job.
And maybe that is how it should be, maybe the reality is that it is the to-do list that keeps us going. Maybe it is that feeling of being needed, of always striving for something that is just out of reach, that gives us reason to get up each day. And maybe reaching the end of the to-do list is not the prize but is just that, the end.
And so I’m off to empty the dishwasher, only to start filling it again. Grateful now and hopeful that for another long, long time I will remain one load behind.