It had been a long and periodically unpleasant day, and I decided it would do me good to pour myself a glass of wine and take a long soak in the tub.

As I went to the tub, and noticed how dirty it was, something occurred to me: I can’t remember the last time I took a bath without cleaning the tub first.

Maybe that doesn’t happen to other women, but it happens to me on a regular basis. It doesn’t matter whether I clean the tub as part of cleaning the whole bathroom, or if I clean it just before (and after) I use it; the next time I want to soak my cares away after an awful day, you can bet I’ll have to clean it yet again.

That seems to be a running theme in the story of my life. As “mom” or “wife” I take care of everyone else, but who takes care of me?