![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Mess? What mess?
Jan. 26th, 2012 09:37 pmI am sitting here before my laptop with my back to the kitchen, firmly lodged in blissful denial. There is no mess. Husband did not deep-fry and depart the house, leaving in his wake puddles of oil and flour and a diffuse haze of smoke. The sugar is not sitting out on the countertop in one solid block hard enough to carve into a pieta. There is not an opaque pool of sludge in the sink I will not touch without elbow-high impermeable gloves.
All is well.
I am not hearing electronic riffs of Mozart coming from the toddler's room, nor the periodic whimper, nor the persistant babbling.
This is not the Christmas tree to my right, taunting me with its crowning star hanging askew and a random assortment of breakable ornaments awaiting placement in small boxes located...well, in the house, I'm pretty sure.
The bills definitely do not need to be addressed.
All is calm. All is still. There is no disorder, nor chaos, nor the wringing of hands, nor the tearing of hair. Blissful sleep awaits.
The alarm will not disturb me at 5:00 a.m.
My boss is not in Florida.
My story is practically writing itself.
Ah, sweet denial.
All is well.
I am not hearing electronic riffs of Mozart coming from the toddler's room, nor the periodic whimper, nor the persistant babbling.
This is not the Christmas tree to my right, taunting me with its crowning star hanging askew and a random assortment of breakable ornaments awaiting placement in small boxes located...well, in the house, I'm pretty sure.
The bills definitely do not need to be addressed.
All is calm. All is still. There is no disorder, nor chaos, nor the wringing of hands, nor the tearing of hair. Blissful sleep awaits.
The alarm will not disturb me at 5:00 a.m.
My boss is not in Florida.
My story is practically writing itself.
Ah, sweet denial.
