House bound

My house had a serious conversation with me today.  It griped & groused that I painted it as having a bias against me, that I blamed IT for how my productive energies flag once I come in the front door.

"Whoa, missy," it protested. "Don't pin that on ME.  I'm just walls & windows, doorways & steps.  No way you're putting it on me.  Hey, I have to put up with your rapacious clutter - you can just forget trashing me for your lack of oomph."

And the house was right.

For decades, I've laid it on that house that my energy drops as soon as I enter the door.  Seriously - it's almost quantifiable.  Dips at least 20%, maybe more.  It FELT like the house was sapping my zip.  And the house is right - it's not housing any negative ions, no phantoms of diminished expectations lurk in its corners.  Yet, I certainly lit into it was & they were.

Today, the house bound me to an agreement - I will shake off my silly finger pointing & start straightening up when I push open the front door, will greet the house as the home health aide it wants to be, shake any lurking blues away, take a deep breath in - hold it - take a deep breath out, and kick into high gear.  

House bound & future forward!