The Aftermath

Sometimes, the littlest things can make me happy. For example, I feel immensely proud of myself whenever I manage to immediately clean up the kitchen after I cook or bake. It usually requires a little lecture in my head; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. After the successful blueberry muffins on Friday, it worked. And boy, was I a trooper. I even managed to put away the chicken soup I made for the upcoming week into quart containers AND do all the pots and pans afterwards. And that was a biggie considering that Le Creuset pot weighs a hundred pounds in all its enameled cast iron glory.

I know it's that little dash of OCD in me that finds it oddly comforting to have a spotless and uncluttered kitchen. If only it were always crumbless, uncluttered, and clean. I'd be dizzy with happiness then.