Garbage out, recyclables sorted, cat fed, dog walked, and now I'm finishing up the dishes. As I rinse suds from pans and swirl water in wine glasses, I try to decide if I'm being extra conscientious just to make up for being such a dick last night, or if I'm just feeling extra motivated.
I rule in favor of virtue when I notice Katie standing next to me at the counter wearing her sleepy-time t-shirt, swinging her arms idly and bouncing up and down on the balls of her bare feet.
When I look at her inquiringly, she says, "I desperately want to get to that window, but you're being way more productive than me, soooo you just go right ahead."
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