For some reason I started cleaning. I do like to have it tidy when I'm having company, however Leslie, as well as the rest of my gang, has seen my house in the most disastrous of states. Finally I convinced myself that it would be there when I returned home this afternoon.
When I arrived home after work, I completed what I had started that morning, including washing my dishes. I love having clean dishes but completely despise the act of cleaning them. This is a dilemma, in that there is nobody else who does them and I have no dish washer, so I am powerless to solve the situation. I have resigned to the fact that I have no choice in the matter, and take great pride in an empty sink. It doesn't happen often, however, because it's not an easy feat when there are people in my house who constantly like to eat. When it does happen, it brings me joy.
After finishing the dishes, I began to prepare for dinner and another friend arrived for tv night-with a few more on the way. I realize that true joy, the type of joy that is a state of being, rather than the result of an action or object, is an amazing thing. True joy is there even when the dishes are dirty.
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