Doing it All

There is this dream I have where I walk into my house after a day out at meetings (or shopping or the spa, if my subconscious is really feeling ambitious) and I'm greeted with the smells of a home cooked dinner waiting for me on the table.  It’s a balanced meal with meat and a side and veggies. Not just some slapped together cheeseburger on a paper towel with a handful of potato chips. And I didn’t have to buy the fixings for this dinner. Or prep it. Or even lift a finger to clean it all up. And in my dream, this isn’t Mother’s Day. It’s just an ordinary Tuesday.