The Dishes

15 03 2009

Tonight I got to do something I haven’t done in a really long time.  I washed the dishes.

Every place I’ve lived for the last two years has had a dishwasher, so I’ve just stuck the dishes in, added the soap, and turned the dial.  But we moved last weekend, and the new place doesn’t have a dishwasher.  So tonight I washed the dishes.

And I enjoyed it.

Listening to my iPod while washing the dishes in my crappy little house/apartment in Pasadena reminded me of listening to my iPod while washing the dishes in my crappy little apartment/3rd floor dungeon in Rochester.  It reminded me of my two friends that I shared that apartment with.

Strange as it may seem, apparently doing the dishes is therapeutic for me.  Not because I am lonely or depressed – because I’m not.  I’m an odd combination of content and anxious.  Content with where I am, but anxious to be done and to return to Indiana.  Washing the dishes is therapeutic because in some strange way it links the past with the present.  It is so easy to get bogged down in the present that the past starts to fade, so I am thankful for these little reminders.

Yes, I am thankful that I get to do the dishes again.

It reminds me of my friends.




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