Around the house are [problems] that desperately call for my attention. But day after day (after month, after year) I callously ignore them. There is the ugly linoleum floor in the bathroom that longs to be replaced, not to mention the glaring lack of baseboard ever since I pulled out the old one five years ago. Here is the dishwasher that broke down three years ago and has been demoted to dish drying rack. There are the carpeted stairs that grow fur just as quickly as the pets shed theirs. These are the choices one can make – or not make – when one is single, when there is no spouse to say, “We need to get this fixed.”
It’s not that I like things this way. I do notice the flooring situation in the bathroom and think about it almost daily. It’s just that I don’t terribly mind it. There are more interesting things on my plate. My hands want to knit yarn into a scarf on a 100 degree day. I want to read about the history of Mexico. I need to drive Willow to her ballet class and embroider a Zapotecan shirt while I wait for her.
Thank goodness the bathroom floor is patient. It will get done. Eventually.
Maybe today I will begin.