Today as I was changing the bed sheets, I found one side of a lost sock nicely folded within one bedsheet. In another bedsheet was a clothes peg hidden within the folds.

Yesterday, my husband found his comb hanging in his already laundered and ironed trousers.


Looks like I’m not much of a housekeeper.

All this housework has taken my writing mojo away. It seems like I have no mood to write on my pages anymore. When will I get it back? Not that I have nothing to write. I always have something hidden away somewhere in the deep recess of my mind. Speaking of which, I am getting very very forgetful lately.

Ah well, I’ve got to stop writing now. It would seem that all that cooking, mopping, washing, ironing etc that one has to do leaves one feeling dull and become dull too! I need to write to get back that feeling of excitement and purpose again.

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