Therapy?

No, not the Nothern Ireland rock/metal act that I first saw years ago on the Gay Byrne late night show when I was in Killarney with my aunt and uncle. I remember John Courtney dragging himself off the settee saying 'Jesus Christ!' with disgust and heading in the direction of the bathroom. I quite liked Therapy? actually but it wasn't quite the right thing for RTE telly even though it was about 1994. They'd banned Father Ted the previous year, I vaguely recall.

Anyway, I digress. This is my kind of therapy. Sometimes after a long Friday of home working when the kitchen floor and a layer of dust looks at you accusingly every time you go to the kitchen to switch the kettle on, it's great to get your supermop out and scrub the floors while the washing machine is trundling around. No gym membership for me thanks! After a good session with the mop (bathroom floor too), and a general house cleaning session, I feel revitalised, free of work and private worries and full of boundless enthusiam and joy!

Boundless? That lasts for about five minutes, before you collapse in a lifeless heap on the settee for a wild evening in front of the TV. Actually, it wasn't that bad but you get the idea. That lovely squeaky feeling and pine fresh smell just lifts the spirits and makes me feel a whole lot better. It's great to do that on a Friday after work too, as it leaves the weekend free of tedious chores.

Stand by your mops everyone!