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I've loved singing since forever. Whether it was with my sisters while cleaning the kitchen, putting shows on for my stuffed animals, writing songs about my stuffed animals, starting an a capella group with my cousins while on vacation, or awkwardly singing along to karaoke tracks alone in my bedroom - singing always found a way into my life.
Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.
I love driving cars, looking at them, cleaning and washing and shining them. I clean 'em inside and outside. I'm very touchy about cars. I don't want anybody leaning on them or closing the door too hard, know what I mean?
I was raised by a single mother who made a way for me. She used to scrub floors as a domestic worker, put a cleaning rag in her pocketbook and ride the subways in Brooklyn so I would have food on the table. But she taught me as I walked her to the subway that life is about not where you start, but where you're going. That's family values.
My life at home gives me absolute joy. There are some days when, as soon as you've finished cooking breakfast and cleaning up the kitchen, it's time to start lunch, and by the time you've done that, you're doing dinner and thinking, 'There has to be a menu we can order from.'
I love cleaning, weird but true. It really relaxes me.
The software program for motherhood is impossible to fully download into the male brain. You give them two tasks and they're like, 'I have to change the baby and get the dry cleaning?'
When we realize we can make a buck cleaning up the environment, it will be done!
God help anyone who disobeys my recycling system. I have all the separated bins. I'm very adamant about it because I try to be a good citizen of the world, I really do. I even use eco-friendly cleaning products, but sometimes you just have to break open the disinfectant. Some jobs require it.
I used to get the feeling, and sometimes I still get it, that I was fooling somebody - I don't know who or what - maybe myself. I have feelings some days where there are scenes with a lot of responsibility, and I'll wish, 'Gee, if only I had been a cleaning woman.'
Life is denied by lack of attention, whether it be to cleaning windows or trying to write a masterpiece.
I was so emotional. Choked up. I could hardly talk all day. I'll be cleaning out my trailer and saying goodbye soon, realizing what a wonderful experience this has been.
I was cleaning out the pigsty at a farm in Wales, where my mother had rented a room, when the results of my final school exam were handed to me by the postman, along with the news that I had a state scholarship to Oxford. I had waited for this letter for so many weeks that I had abandoned hope, deciding that I had failed ignominiously.
Messy stuff irritates me. I don't like messiness. If you leave something around my house, I'll tell you to move it back, clean it up, throw it in the trash - don't matter, just get rid of it. I need stuff neat, organized. And once I start cleaning stuff, I don't stop until it's done. Otherwise I'm irritated all day.
We are used to cleaning the outside house, but the most important house to clean is yourself - your own house - which we never do.
We dream of having a clean house - but who dreams of actually doing the cleaning? We don't have to dream about doing the work, because doing the work is always within our grasp; the dream, in this sense, is to attain the goal without the work.
I don't like people cleaning my room.
In his first term, President Barack Obama played a cautious manager navigating the worst economic disaster since the Great Depression and cleaning up the messes left by President George W. Bush in Iraq and Afghanistan.
I entered the work force cleaning breast pumps at a pharmacy! It was a part-time gig while I was at school... no interview required.
I've always had the impression that real militants are like cleaning women, doing a thankless, daily but necessary job.
When I was 16, I had a job on the cleaning crew at a local hospital. I wore a pink uniform and cleaned bathrooms and buffed the hallway linoleum. Oddly, I don't recall hating the job. I recall getting choked up at the end of the summer when I went to turn in my uniform and say goodbye to the ladies.
Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing up is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.
Some Christians feel guilty when they are doing something that isn't 'spiritual.' Somehow or another, they feel the need to hurry through the grocery store, dash through the house cleaning, and rush through all the daily aspects of life that seem irrelevant to their faith.
I have sporadic OCD cleaning moments around the house. But then I get lazy and I'm cured. It's a very inconsistent personality trait.
Why do elites hate the poor? It's xenophobia. They don't know any poor people - except their off-the-books Brazilian nanny and illegal immigrant cleaning lady from Upper Revolta who don't speak English.
P. J. O'Rourke
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