Why? Because I keep forgetting...

The answer is, "Because I keep forgetting," but in retrospect that doesn't justify my poor timing.

I'm sitting by my front window soaking up the sun like a cat or perhaps my dog that is mimicking me in the chair 3 feet away.  I had this all planned out, but I kind of ruined it.  This is my first day back to work.  The cute, loud 6 year old is at school for the first day after Christmas break.  This usually indicates a peaceful productive day is on the horizon.  

My peaceful surroundings are marred by noise and smoke.  The second causing the first, which all began this morning when I decided to clean the oven.  Why? Because I keep forgetting.  Again, this does not justify my poor timing.

There are those of you like my sweet disciplined mother-in-law that don't understand my predicament because you can actually see your face inside of your oven on a daily basis.  That is not me.  

It started on Christmas, when my pumpkin swirl cheesecake, housed in a not-very-tight springform pan, dripped.  Let's be honest, that is not when it all began, but that is when it became unbearable.  Because every time we use the oven, it smokes.  

Ever since then, I have had the intention of using the handy dandy self-cleaning function overnight, but I forget every night.  So, this morning, I thought, "It won't be that bad, let me go ahead and do it now." Famous last words.

My peaceful surroundings are only marred by the putrid smell of smoke, my slightly burning eyes, and noise pollution caused by our ancient exhaust fan that is akin to a freight train parked outside our home.  Actually, are freight trains loud if they are sitting there, because if they aren't, that is a poor analogy indeed.  

At the end of my ruined morning, I will have a clean oven.  Actually that is untrue, because self-cleaning is kind of a lie.  Everyone knows that, right.  So I guess at the end of my ruined morning, I need to clean my self-cleaning oven.  

Anywho, in moments like these, I think to myself, "Self, you should do better." You know, wipe out the oven more than annually.  But then I think, "Self, who are you kidding?"  You think there is a "Sparkly Clean Oven Accountability Group," because by the age of 45, that is my only hope.  

So here I sit trying not to inhale a whole lot, blinking my watery eyes to make them stop stinging, and thankful that Jesus loves me filthy oven and all.

I will say this, I am not a New Year's Resolution kind of person, and cleaning my oven won't be my very first New Year's Resolution, but if I am going to work on anything this year, maybe it should be the discipline of taking care of my soul in spite of the smell, the noise, or all the other distractions vying for my immediate attention.