As I sit here.

I feel uncomfortable.

There are pantry items laying around the counter,
the mail is stacked 3 miles high,
there are stains in the rugs,
and I can honestly see how much work I do around here.

I still sink into the couch as usual, with my legs crossed, and my feet tingling.
I still have to pick up my mother's mess...as always.

I guess some things never change.