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Ever have one of those mornings, where your thoughts are going from one idea to another, seemingly without plan or resolution of one concept before another creeps in?

That is my mental state right now. I’m not going to call 911 or anything, but it’s down right annoying. Maybe I’m too jazzed up on coffee. I dunno.

You see, last night I got tired of looking at this honkin’ big package of Charmin Bath Tissue just sitting out in the downstairs pile of clutter. I knew where it could go; in the upstairs bath/laundry room on a shelf over the washing machine. But there was junk on it, old towels and linens we would never use, like a toilet seat cover bearing an image of Santa Claus. That is going to Goodwill real soon. So I organized this shelf and space to put stuff magically opened up. Then I started thinking about all the others spaces I could liberate from their clutter. 

Then I started thinking about what are “male” jobs and what are “female” jobs. I don’t want to re-write every social norm in Western society, but running a house doesn’t carry a specifically “male” or “female” skill set, whatever those two may be respectively.

Doggone it! I like cooking, cleaning, and organizing, obviously  a lot more than my spousal unit. 

Here goes! That was liberating to say that.

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