I have been single and living on my own since I've been considered a "grown-up". Honestly, I thought I was doing okay domestically. My laundry was always clean and relatively wrinkle-free. My dishes were always rinsed well and neatly stacked by the sink until time came every Thursday to wash them. (When and if they got put away is another story.) I knew how to use a vacuum cleaner, Windex, Swiffer, and the like. I just didn't have to very often. I am a neat girl! Things just didn't seem to get dirty all that often.
Then we have the whole cooking thing.
I honestly thought I was a good cook. I thought spaghetti was a gourmet meal and copycatting Olive Garden's Zuppa Toscana was a feat for the ages. I thought I knew the basics at least.
How did I start learning just how much I didn't know? Well, just under seven months ago, I got married. Yes, married - that life-altering state of being where the happiness and comfort of another comes before your own. Where you find yourself believing you actually can fulfill all those promises your lovesick heart made during those delirious one a.m. phone conversations. Where you are in such a state of utter bliss that you hardly notice the rug as it is swept out from under you, and you don't even know you're down until you're flat on your back staring up at the ceiling.
That day comes over and over again for the undomestic among us. You never quite know in just how many areas you are lacking. Until you fail in one after another. After another. After another...
So, here's to self-improvement. Here's to doing the dishes daily. Here's to bread that rises, casseroles that are cooked-through, and
And you will be my witnesses.