Bubble Baths are a metaphor for my life.
Putting more and more into the bathtub seems like such a good idea. Filling it up until the bubbles practically overflow is so---fun. Until you realize you need less bubbles to actually bathe, and they are virtually impossible to get rid of.
I can't get rid of all these bubbles I've created!
Vacuuming = Time
I dream of being inside a large ballroom-- vacuuming. It is relaxing. Per my post below, I envy the old woman next door as she vacuums. Clearly I associate vacuuming as a stress-relief action associated with having the time to perform this task. The problem is, our current vacuum is the opposite of stress-relief. It has to be emptied three times for our one small rug, it is missing a filter so we use paper towels/dryer sheets as substitutes and for some unknown reason, it is wet inside. I hate it. Not fun. Not stress relieving.
Buy us a new one: Our Registry (oh relax, I'm only half-serious, I realize no one is going to buy us a $400 vacuum-- even though it is the vacuum of my dreams -- literally)
