It’s been a long day. In fact, it’s been a long week.
Moving is not for the faint of heart. For the last twelve days, the hubby and I have been trying to make our house look like a home once more. The furniture is the easy part. It’s the little stuff that takes so long–is this the best cupboard for the coffee mugs, how should I organize the closet shelves, where should I hang this picture, should this knick-knack go in the living room or the bedroom, do we really need all these blankets?
The hubby took a well-deserved break from home-making this evening, going with a buddy to play poker. I could have taken the night off, too, either A) going along to the poker game, or B) curling up on the sofa with a book. But no, I opted to work three more hours after the hubby departed.
My actions were not completely altruistic.
I bought myself a Hershey bar during this afternoon’s grocery run.
You see, a Hershey bar slathered with Jif peanut butter, washed down with a cold glass of milk, is one of life’s greatest joys. If the promise of that gooey delight is dangled before me, I can be motivated to do all kinds of onerous tasks. So tonight’s three extra hours of shuffling “fluff” from one room to another flew by as thoughts of my sweet reward swirled in my head.
I figure half a dozen peanut buttery chocolate bars should be just about enough to inspire me to sort out my half of the office tomorrow.