Recently I have been having some problems with my back, due to my activities at the 9th grade confirmation retreat, and my advanced age (50). So I went to the doctor, got some pain relievers and muscle relaxants, and some exercises, and some advice (don't carry that heavy purse for awhile) and worked on getting better. In a few days, I'm pleased to report, my back began to show marked improvement. Except... I would wake up in the middle of the night, my right knee throbbing. I called my doctor to give her an update and got more advice (try to take it easy over the weekend). She knows I'm a pastor. I chuckled a little, and tried to take it easy on Saturday, and thought that I was feeling, really, much better on Sunday.
Sunday was Mother's Day. Which is to say: my mother was coming over to my house. My husband kept asking, when was I going to lay down for my nap? You know, the one I always take on Sunday afternoon. But wherever I looked, I saw something I didn't want my mother to see. Dust. Dog hair. Marks on the floor. And when I touched the can opener, it was STICKY. I chopped fruit and vegetables, scrubbed and sprayed surfaces, and got down on the floor to wipe up dirt and dust. The funny thing was, when I got down on the floor, I found that I couldn't get up.
That had never happened to me before.
Also, I wasn't taking it easy on the weekend, was I?
I am not saying that my mother is judgmental. However, she has always been a good housekeeper, and the most organized person I know. My indelibly etched memories from early childhood are the ways the days of the week were organized by housework chore: you know, washing on Monday, ironing on Tuesday, etc. Floors were waxed, I believe, on Saturday. Now I don't do that. I basically will be sitting around and all of a sudden I will notice: hey, that shelf is dusty. So I'll dust it. Or, the other scenario: People are coming over.
So now I have had a slight knee relapse, and I am promising myself that I am going to try to take it easy for two days. I am not going to go up and down the basement steps, and I am absolutely not going to try to get down on the floor. I promise. Unless my mother says she's coming over again.