I did pretty well on Monday.
I did pretty well yesterday.
But somehow today, since I didn’t get the kitchen clean before leaving the house for the entire day (much less do any other daily tasks), my house was in pretty bad shape.
I found myself thinking that “The house is spiraling out of control.”
Let’s analyze that sentence folks.
House is the subject and is spiraling is the verb. Hmmm.
The only problem here is that the house is actually an inanimate object, and on a pretty decent foundation, thus incapable of “spiraling.”
See, I’m blaming the house. I love to pass the blame whenever I can, and the house is pretty much at my mercy.
I think houses get personified pretty regularly. On a good day when they give you the warm fuzzies, they may have a heart, or a soul, or memories, or even speak to you on occasion.
That’s all fine, but blaming the house for my lack of commitment to my daily tasks is not.
Now, I know I’m making a big deal about something that is really just an expression, but because I’m so incredibly quick to pass the blame, I have to call myself on this one.
The reality is that I spent 25 minutes cleaning up the kitchen while supper was in the oven. And after that 25 minutes, the whole house no longer seemed to be spiraling.