The Value of Impressionism

Oh. My. Gosh. WHY can't my house stay clean for 24 hours? Please unlock that mystery for me. Someone???? I am sitting in the family room, a fairly simple room that flows into the kitchen. Yesterday it was in very nice order. Today the chairs are askew and the cushions misshapen. The coffee table has several different papers belonging to any number of people in my family and I have no idea whether or not a single one of them is important. To my left is a plate that once held a quesadilla and a half empty coffee cup from this morning. In front of me is a plate with dessert crumbs and a mug with a lifeless tea bag floating in it (sitting next to an empty coaster) -both from last night. The bar stools are a study in organizational corruption, one of them is holding a belt. In the kitchen every other cabinet door is open. A large brown paper bag holds bagels Jenny brought home last night, on the counter is baking soda, crumbled paper towels, coffee, two pans on the stove, assorted glasses, cups, and mugs, a bag of tortillas, two empty cereal boxes, two bottles of TUMS, and one dripping faucet. It would take so little to keep it up. And yet, so much.

So I take my glasses off and it all becomes a blurr - like some sort of still life from the impressionist era. I look at it all through my fuzzy, uncorrected vision and try to find the artistic beauty - and while I may not be successful, I am at least distracted. Distracted enough to pick my glasses up and not put them on again until I stand and leave this room to walk to a tidier one.