I've just washed my dishes, for no other reason than that they needed doing. There weren't very many, and it didn't take very long. This doesn't seem very remarkable, except that the state of my kitchen sink has long been an analogue for how my life is going. If things are going badly, my dishes don't get done, and everything is messy and horrid. If things are going well, they do get done, and everyone's happy. Over the past year it has become more physically challenging to do my dishes (and most things: my wrists and hands are stuffed), and as I would have already expended some of my already limited energy on cooking – hence the dirty dishes – I rarely had the energy to also clean up afterwards. So there would be dirty dishes. I don't leave my dishes in/around the sink because I just don't care about them, or can't be bothered; when I have limited physical resources, washing dishes becomes a low priority, compared, for instance, to lo
Personal reflections from my life as a high school teacher with a disability.