C'mon now, you just know she was.
Anyone who smiles as she feather dusters the tops of her doorways while donned in a dress, heels and pearls is most likely sneakin' a nip of somethin' at some point during her day.
'Cuz let's face a cold, hard truth, ladies and gents: Housework is maddening because it never stays done. One's sense of accomplishment after an entire day spent cleaning is fleeting.
For example, I spent my entire Saturday chiseling away bathtub soap scum, picking errant pieces of popcorn out of the carpet, brushing giant dust bunnies off those damnable ceiling fan blades...even wore my sunflower-print apron and bright yellow rubber gloves.
When I awoke this a.m., I took a look around my spotless abode. I was proud.
Kitchen floor? Washed and non-wax waxed. Counters? Cleared. Woodwork? Dusted. Carpet? Not a cat hair to be found.
Ta-Da! Mission Accomplished! The house looked great! What a wonderful sense of accomplishment.
Until a moment later when the cat gobbled her breakfast and proceeded to toss her kibbles not only across my slippery-clean kitchen floor, but on my nicely vacuumed living room carpet AND atop the pile of just-laundered bath towels folded neatly in a nearby laundry basket.
And that is why, I'm tellin' ya, June Cleaver tipped a few.
Obviously, what she needed was a blog.
Hey, I used to writhe with angst over housework's fickle heart. But on January 1 of this year, I chose writing over writhing. I started blogging again after a somewhat lengthy hiatus.
Blogging is creating. Creating gives me a much-needed sense of accomplishment. A sense of accomplishment makes me happy. And you know what they say: When Mama's happy, everybody's happy.
Creativity, of course, is time consuming. Hence, housework now takes a back seat to blogging.
I'm thinkin' a thorough blast through the bungalow once a month armed with a gallon of Tylex, a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser (Extra Power, of course), and a super-suck vacuum should do the trick.
Passion over practicality? Perhaps.
But one thing is certain.
A sparkling toilet in one's bathroom remains sparkling for but a moment. A blog post in cyber space lasts forever.
Poor June and her secret sipping.
Alas, there but for the grace of modern technology go I.