Martha Was Not Merry

There was a time when I aspired to do good things, like Martha Stewart. Martha made me believe that if she could do it, I could do it too. Then I realized Martha was killing me. She and her brand of good entertaining was a carcinogen for my soul. I do not blame Martha. She had good intentions. She only wanted good things for me, I am sure of it. Yet for all the good I tried to do I was no fun to be around. And that is quite the opposite of good.

"You always get like this when we have company over," my husband would say in frustration. "You don't need to have everything perfect you know." I didn't know. I thought it should be perfect.

"Help me or get out of my way" I would say, sometimes out loud. It would be so nice for our guests if everything was perfect. Oh, who am I kidding? It would be nice for me. If everyone was impressed with my charming centerpieces, assorted serving dishes and an impressive, if not delicious menu, they might not notice the dirty floors.


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