Sometimes, I look at myself and I see my mother.

And that is a scary, scary thing.

Case in point: Today I had planned to spend all day working on my twelve page Public Management paper that is due tomorrow at midnight (You know, one of those assignments you get at the beginning of the semester and don't even begin to think about until two weeks before it is due and even then when you think about it, that thinking only goes so far as to put off planning the session in which you will for realz actually sit down and work on it. yeah. One of those.). I think my dear roommate Dana started washing the dishes or something, and so I pitched in for a bit. And by a bit, I mean I spent two and a half hours scrubbing the cabinets, cleaning the fan, washing screens, sweeping the floor, putting away laundry and straightening my room. After two and a half hours, I realized it was time to go to work, and after getting home from work at 10, there just wasn't any hope for that paper today. Tomorrow is another day, right?

My paper may not be written, but it is so refreshing to be in a nice clean house with screens you can actually see out of and to have a bed that doesn't have piles of laundry on it. Hopefully, tomorrow I will still appreciate those very clean screens as I am about to throw my laptop through one of them out of frustration.

To clarify the title a little bit, my mother is a wonderful, intelligent woman currently working on her PhD in Military Sociology. We have had many, many chats in which we discuss the multiplicity of things we are both not doing that we should be (and how clean our living spaces are!). In the nature vs. nurture argument, I would place almost all the blame completely on nurture for this one. Love you mama!

Here's to hoping tomorrow is a gray, rainy, miserable day.