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My parents' yardwork is so much better than mine.

I know that's a weird sentence to say, but it's a true story.
Over the weekend, I helped my dad on the saw mill with sweeping and stacking wood. It was a beautiful day on Saturday, and I just felt like being outside all day in the nice breeze and shade.

I remember all the things my dad used to say to me to try and get me to do yardwork when I was a lazy bum.
I didn't believe him at the time, but all of them are true.
"It's good exercise!"
"You'll feel great!"
"You'll look at what you did and feel accomplished!"
"You get paid for it!"

Now that I'm a "grown-up", I guess that last one isn't true anymore.

So then I come back to my other home, and everything just seems so LAME.
I am not motivated at all to do chores or yardwork or cook or even shower.

TMI? TMI.

How do you bridge the gap between having to and wanting to?
Needing to and "getting" to?
Whining to whistling?

I feel like things are easier when they're not exactly my responsibility.
Like, I'm a way better helper.

Let's contrast and compare:
("Lift up your shirt; the wound isn't there." - Bright Eyes)
"Allie, please do the dishes." - NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Allie, can you help me with the dishes?" - ABSOLUTELY I WILL.

Even with cooking, I task Mike to help me, where helping is either chopping an onion or stirring cookie batter. Sometimes, it's even standing there watching and talking to me.

So maybe it's just the chores I have to do alone that suck monkey bars.

Think about that.
Sucking monkey bars.
How many germs from how many kids.
Pretty terrible, right?
Yes.

Blogging is a grown-up version of whining,
TWS