If I’m going to have to make breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks every day for the rest of my life, I’m glad, at the very least, that I find fulfillment and joy in creating edible deliciousness, in feeding my family (and others) food that is both good and good for you, in testing new recipes and learning new things.
If I have to fold piles and piles and piles of laundry, I’m grateful that it is a task I really don’t mind doing (as long as I can watch a show or listen to a podcast while I do it).
If at least half an hour of every day will be spent standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel blessed that it is also a chore that gives me a chance to order my thoughts and clear my mind, that the rush of the water and the repetition and the clear sense of progress is soothing.
Don’t get me wrong: I can think of dozens of other ways I’d rather spend my time than doing dishes, folding clothes, and thinking about food. But I am grateful that, since those things need to be done, and it’s my job to make sure they get that way, I actually do like doing them. Or at least parts of them.