World Peace In 76 Seconds

I've said before that I'm not the world's best at keeping the house tidy.  Honestly, I am simply incapable of doing anything in a set routine.  I have no idea why nor do I have much inclination to fix this.  But it absolutely runs fingernails down the black board of my soul to do the same stupid chores day after day.  Give me a new project any day, even if that new project is replacing all the toilets in the house.  At least it's something different!

It's so artsy!  My dishes, returning to the earth . . .

The two biggies are laundry and dishes, of course.  I call these "the chores you get punished for doing."  Why?  Because you get all the dishes done so that everyone can use the dishes and put them right back in the sink.  Well, in the sink if you're lucky.  Most of my dishes end up under couches, beds, in cars, and in the sand box.

Laundry is the same.  As soon as I ferret out every last pair of dirty underwear and every random sock, everyone goes and wears them!  And hey look, more laundry to do.  Yuck.  (Tip: Do not bother to wash socks that have been left out in the backyard in the mud.  Socks seem to have a very short decomposition time, although the noxious gases radiated from Boy Feet may also have something to do with this.)

Not worth the soap.

So one day, early on in my parenting, I was arguing with myself.  I needed to unload the dishwasher.  I do not know why I hate unloading the dishwasher, but I do.  I hate hate hate it.  It's tied with putting laundry away.  I can wash it, I can dry it, and if I grit my teeth, I can fold it.  But I want to pull my hair out when it's time to put it away.  I do not why.

I was standing there, in my tiny Houston kitchen, staring down my dishwasher.  I knew then, as I know now, it's completely ridiculous for an adult to be so stubborn about something that simply has to get done.  And the level of animosity I was feeling towards an appliance was a bit embarrassing.  After all, it was actually doing all the real work.

I decided to do a little empirical research.  How long did it take to unload the dishwasher?  I was hedging my bets around 15-20 minutes of suffering.  I started the timer.  I gathered the bowls.  That must have taken at least 5 minutes.  It was agonizing.  Then the cups.  Stack, stack, stack.  Ten minutes more, I was certain.  The plates are always my favorite part -- no, seriously.  You clear a bunch of space and they all stack so nicely.  At least 20 minutes must have passed by now.  The silverware came next, then the dreaded "other stuff."  All the little bits of this and that which don't fit into a standard category.  Moderately disposable Gladware lids are possibly the top of the list.  Keep it?  Wash it?  Will I reuse it?  Not if I wash it.  If I toss it, I'll need it.  Ugh.  I bet we were nearing on 45 minutes total time.

Once upon a time, this was a white dishcloth.

I looked at the timer.  76 seconds had passed.  Seriously.  One minute and 16 seconds.  I can't even pee that fast (Well, I've actually never timed this, maybe I can?).  I can't eat a cookie that fast (This I have timed. I do not remember why.)  I stared at the timer, my mind absolutely blown.  But a whole new awareness was coming over me.

I tried folding a basket of bath towels.  Under 2 minutes. (It was small washer)  Then I put them away.  15 seconds!  I wiped down the bathroom counter.  29 seconds! I had been so productive and it hadn't even been 5 minutes!

A beautiful dawn of enlightenment filled by brain:

If I break the world down to 76 second chunks, I CAN GET ANYTHING DONE!

I could teach my children how to speak Mandarin! (By starting with teaching myself Mandarin . . .)

Got the Chair Rail too :(

I could write the Great American Novel!

I could solve world hunger!

I could cure the common cold!

I could bring about world peace!!

But I should probably start with rotating the laundry.

Still, if I just break it down into tiny, toddler-size, 76 second nibbles, any task is achievable.  The two doorknob holes in the wall?  Done.  The three missing railings (all lost in Jacob-related incidents)? Replaced.  The disaster zone of a storage room?  Still a mess.  Some elephants require a whole lot of  mental gearing-up before the 76-second bites begin :P  But I will get there! 76 seconds at a time.

To be honest, I have to admit to it being an "I Told You So" moment.  My mother had been telling me, as long as I could remember, that if I would just get it done quickly, it would be over quickly.  When I took a long time and whined and complained about a chore, it just meant that I was having to do the chore for a lot longer.  Why not reduce my chore time by simply getting it done fast?  BECAUSE I HATE THE CHORE!!  That's why.  Ahem.

So there you are.  How to Save the World in 76 seconds.  And short of that, at least unload your dishwasher.