The Kitchen Sink
I've been working on killing Wonder Woman. I should rephrase that, though. The reality is less violent but still painful. It's probably more accurate to say I've been working on birthing myself. Some more. I've had a long battle with the dishes. It's been years of sinks piled high with embarrassing levels and layers of gunk. I'll get to the point where it's finally unbearable and take hours to tackle the mountain and get the sinks empty. I'll swear to myself it won't get to that point ever again. Just 15 minutes a day--or less--and it'll be taken care of. Just take 15 minutes a day. I can handle that. Before I know it, the mountain is back. This time, it was different. Over the last couple of weeks, I've dug away at the dishes again--not in one vengeful surge as is my usual custom, but bit by bit, 15 minutes here, half an hour there. They've piled up again just a little, and I've whittled them away a little more. Today, I washed the l