Another beautiful morning just dawned – the sun in shining through my freshly cleaned patio doors. All my elbow grease and effort is being illuminated brilliantly – every streak magnified, every missed spot revealed. I might be the worst window washer ever. Where a radiant morning like this should be celebrated I find myself disheartened. I feel like throwing in the preverbal paper towel.
For the record, doing a terrible job on the windows requires exactly the same amount of effort as doing a good one; the same amount of time, the same gumption. The old ‘practice makes perfect’ still applies – my windows are perfectly awful every time. In fact, I think they get awful-er.
My sister knows the trick to streak free windows – I’ve asked her for pointers on numerous occasions. She claims there is no trick, but I know different, I know she’s holding out. Her windows are spotless. She takes sibling rivalry seriously – she is determined to outshine me in the window department forever.
I’ve tried various strategies and maneuvers. I’ve invested in numerous highly recommended products. Nothing seems to improve my results. My windows generally look great during the washing process – I get suckered into believing I’ve finally succeeded. The streaks and spots hide in the shade of late afternoon. It isn’t until a new day dawns that the extent of my failure is revealed.
So here I am, drinking coffee and charting my course for the beautiful day ahead in the smear of yesterday’s efforts. I have no intention of giving the windows another go today, I think they should bask in their spotted glory for awhile. I may head out back and view them from the flip side – they always look better with the sun in my eyes.
Comments (1)
Good one!!