The dishes take it all.

I have let the frustration of a full sink despite the feeling that "I am always doing dishes" invade my mind so deeply and take the best of me.

I have these conversations in my mind before I have to do the dishes that are fit for a melodramatic soap opera. There are two voices. One is making the other one do the dishes. One is practically screaming but in a very beginning kind of tone. The other is pretending not to hear and considering whether to have some leftover morning coffee. I try to find other things to do. I think of Emily Dickinson whose quiet inspiring domesticity contains nothing but peace. Despite her example, I can hardly bring myself to do the dishes. Perhaps it is because there is no deadline. There is no pat on the back. No cheers. It is a simple boring task, and it is messy and ruins skin.

Yet it should be noted, today is " Успение на Пресвета Богородица/ "Dormition of the Theotokos/ Успение Божией Матери (Успение Богородицы)"- the holiday of the Mother of God, and in her very very honor I shall do the dishes. I really would like to read about it, but I feel like I spent so much time online already. To think what she is and to compare my tiny self to her glory, that does give me the energy to find my tiny place in the Universe and get on with it.