"Lather. Rinse. Repeat."

By nature, work can be repetitive

“Lather. Rinse. Repeat.” Those circuitous directions have been printed on millions of shampoo bottles for decades, leaving us wondering when the repeating was supposed to end. Work—especially the work of cleaning—seems to be, by nature, a very repetitive endeavor.

Repetitive work can lead to greater efficiency. Hoping to prevent boredom, I used to create job charts for my kids that would rotate them through a myriad of household jobs in a week’s time. Then another mother told me she gave her children the same job for an entire month! As it turns out, the repetition turned her kids into experts. They became both proficient and efficient at completing one specific task quickly and well.

Work gives us structure, purpose, and sometimes even an escape. Why, do you suppose, is work woven so tightly into the purposes of this mortal existence? Why is it we seem to be destined to mop up the messes of entropy? For one thing, while we are busy trying to impose order on the disorderly, our work can provide structure for what might otherwise become meaningless moments melting into each other. 

I once knew a woman who got very sick and had to stay in bed for many weeks. Finally, she thought, she would have the perfect excuse to do nothing. She had often fantasized of such an opportunity to be waited on while she read and made handicrafts to her heart’s content. Instead, she was very soon frustrated that she could not fix herself a meal, give her children a bath, or even, heaven forbid, clean a toilet! Evidently, endless rest and relaxation is not all it’s cracked up to be. 

And work doesn’t just give us purpose; it can also be an acceptable outlet for our frustrations. On several occasions when I’ve been upset with someone in the house, I have quite literally worked my way out of a bad temper by plunging into a task.

Don’t make work for yourself. I don’t believe in creating unnecessary work. In fact, I do everything I can to minimize my job load. Fourteen years ago when my husband and I built our home, knowing full well I would be cleaning my house many times over, I deliberately chose carpet, tiles, paint, and even some furniture to match “the color of dirt.” I wanted all the help I could get in delaying my inevitable work. So, I purposefully designed my house to mask some of the dirt that would become mine to clean.

Job satisfaction varies. Few domestic jobs are one-timers, but each holds a different degree of permanence. I didn’t think much about this until, after about ten years of married life, a friend who loved to garden pointed out to me that her yard work yielded longer lasting results than almost any household task. For her, contentment from planting flowers lasted throughout all of spring, whereas satisfaction from wiping down the kitchen counters between meals was fleeting. Sure, the leaves will need raking again but not as often as the carpet will need vacuuming. Then there’s the issue of volume. Given the repeatable nature of work, just how much work can any one person be expected to reasonably do? For years, I used to say I did my best to keep up with two out of three: the house, the garage, and the yard. Nowadays, I’m not quite as manic about any one of them.

All work is not created equal. I have my favorite little jobs that I don’t mind doing every day and some I even get excited about. I'll gladly put away leftovers every night, but please assign someone else to dust the furniture. I’m happy to clean out closets and wash the cars, but will someone else please pay the bills? 

Some work, however, just has to be done in a timely fashion, and often that work falls to the woman of the house. Many years ago my sister wrote a letter pleading for some suggestions to help her through what she called “the laundry blues.” With several small children and mountains of what felt like endless laundry, she needed an escape from both the monotony and the repetitive nature of her daily work. 

My mother categorized laundry as “idiot work," the kind of work she could do without having to use thinking power. So, while her body performed necessary labor, Mom would try to simultaneously engage her mind in something stimulating. Her days of doing "idiot work" long preceded iPods—my personal answer to tedious, mind-numbing tasks. So, I really admire her determination to stay mentally active. 

Work is never really finished. When I was 13 years old, I spent the summer in Eastern Washington with my best friend's family. They decided to uproot from city life and become orchard farmers. So, we picked fruit, watered trees, and did all kinds of jobs foreign to a young city girl like me. At the end of each day, I felt a sense of accomplishment. One evening my friend’s father, rather than praising our day’s labor, simply stated the old adage, “A farmer’s work is never done.” 

But farmers aren’t the only ones who leave work unfinished. At some point, we all have to decide to simply stop “lathering, rinsing, and repeating” so we can have some fun. We need a change of pace from our work that greets us day after day, again and again.