I was patiently waiting with my left turn signal for the oncoming car to go by when it suddenly turned left in front of me without using a turn signal.  It was a police officer.  I found myself extra grumbly about it because I hold those who preach, enforce, etc. something to a higher standard than the rest of us.  So as an enforcer of the law, I expect police officers to abide by all traffic laws.  I expect preachers of religion to uphold all tenets of that religion, etc.

And then I thought about myself.  Probably as an organic farmer, I should strictly eat organic healthy food (insert sheepish grin here), but in reality, I am a Saturday 5am regular at the local Hardees.  I mean really, they know me and know what I’m going to order.  Saturdays are a whirlwind, with the 3:45am alarm and loading for three markets and driving an hour and 15 minutes and setting up and running market and there’s no time to cook breakfast or eat anything until about 3 pm, so Hardees (the only thing open at 4:30am) to the rescue. It’s how I keep going.  But look at me, justifying my less than healthy choices like a regular ole’ human being.

And as it turns out, police officers and preachers and ilk are regular ole’ human beings too.  So even though it took nearly 50 years for me to figure this out, I think I’ll start cutting everyone a little bit more slack. Lest my own hypocrisy be highlighted. 

This is tomorrow’s joy.  When you spend every Sunday playing, it’s difficult to get all the Sunday things done.  Sometimes, a little catch up is necessary.  Or at least useful.

I steal a Monday evening to vacuum and clean the bathroom and fold the laundry and finish putting away all the Sunday playthings. I’m just scrubbing away when I realize: this is tomorrow’s joy.  Tomorrow, when I get in the shower confident that I’m going to emerge cleaner than when I went in.  And when I can walk barefoot in the house without stopping to wipe my feet off every few steps. And when I open the drawer, I find clean clothes.

There is joy in the drudgery of housework, but I’m confident that if it happened more frequently, I would learn to take it for granted.  So for now, I’ll continue to steal Sundays for play.