Wrestle

Most of us can easily do two things at once; what's all but impossible is to do one thing at once. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

There’s a pair of twins in me who are forever battling with each other. One is industrious while the other loves to laze around. Needless to say, the indolent one is the dominant one.

Yesterday, however, the dormant hardworking twin decided to take control. After putting up with the sluggish twin in the morning for a couple of hours, she lashed out her whip and demanded the day to be started without further delay.

Breakfast was taken hastily and the coaching of Mervin began. Soon after, it was time for shower and setting off for school.

Once back home, the domineering twin took charge again. Instead of jumping into the chores straight away, she defeated the hardworking twin once more to laze around and chat on the internet.

The hardworking twin wouldn’t admit defeat that easily either. After an hour of charging up her energy, she took the opportunity when the laptop’s battery went flat to whip into action. Plans were to be carried out as scheduled. The living room needed a spring cleaning desperately to de-clutter.

Then again, the hardworking twin is an ambitious one too. Besides tidying up the living room, she seeks to give the room a makeover as well. That explained the shifting of shoe racks and photo frames following after. The effort was rewarded with a scraped knuckle. But instead of feeling upset, it bored a satisfaction of work being done.

Every once in a while, the lazy twin would try to surface by persuading the hardworking twin to sit down on the couch and rest while contemplating what and where to move next. The diligent one wasn’t ready to fall for her trick. Instead, she pushed herself to vacuum around the house as the wheels of her mind kept turning.

By four, the living room was almost done, except for the piles of books and papers on the coffee table stacked acrobatically by Rachel.

“None of our business!” the lazy twin declared. And the hardworking twin agreed.

The urge to bring the kids out for dinner was so strong but the hardworking twin managed to resist it despite the lazy twin’s protests.

“It’s been long since I cooked a proper meal for the kids,” the hardworking twin confessed.

“But if you cook, you wouldn’t have time to coach them in their works. Think about the pots and pans and dishes,” the lazy twin argued.

Finally, they came to a truce. Dinner would be cooked, but instead of the intended three dishes, a soup and rice, all the ingredients would be thrown into the rice cooker for a mixed-chicken-and-sausages-and-cabbage-rice and a soup.

After seasoning the chicken wings, the hardworking twin pushed for a mopping of the floors. The lazy twin was groaning loudly by then but to no avail. The hardworking twin won this round again.

It was almost five when the floors were squeaking clean. A quick shower was taken to remove the glorious sweat and grime. Then it was time to fetch the kids from school.

Once everyone reached home, dinner was prepared and devoured; kids were shoved into the bathrooms; homework was taken out from their bags; and…

“Mummy! Tonight is the Singapore Idol result show!” Mervin hollered.

The lazy twin suddenly erupted out of nowhere and grabbed the remote control. The hardworking twin was temporarily knocked out.

When the show ended, the lazy twin tried to convince the other half that the day was well-spent and it was time to rest. The hardworking twin nearly conceded in view of the tired body and droopy eyelids. Just as the evil twin was about to have her last laugh, the hardworking twin jerked herself awake and proceeded to load the day’s laundry, mopped the kitchen floor, cleaned the dining table, washed the dishes, hang the laundry and finally update her blog.

The day ended with a sense of fulfillment. As I lay on my bed trying to get my well-deserved sleep, something kept gnawing at my conscience. I had vacuumed, mopped, tidied the living room, changed Kristel’s papers, cooked, and done the dishes and laundry. Why do I still feel guilty?

Out of the corner of my eyes, the heap of unfold clothes on my chair stared at me mockingly. From somewhere deep within, peals of evil laughter arose.