Woke up this morning angry because I had to clean up after yesterday’s birthday party and no one helped me and This is considered ok because I am the woman of the house and therefore it’s my job to die of housework.

I think about my eldest sister a lot. Before her cancer, she was a doctor. She cooked and cleaned. She did the bills. She raised the children. Her husband went hiking every weekend and occasionally made aloo bhujia using three different pots and pans which he left on the counter.

This left a toll on her. Since I can remember she has been exhausted, crabby and quick to put things in there place before the whole house spirals out of control. I think she got cancer because, for 20 years, she couldn’t relax.

Yesterday my husband came downstairs and announced he’d cut his hair. My immediate thought was, ‘he did this in the bathroom. There will be hair everywhere’. And then I panicked because I had to feed the twins before I could go upstairs.

Being solely responsible for housework all the time really deprives one of joy and spontaneity. And it’s thankless, invisible work. I’ve caught myself sipping tea and stressing about the mess around me. Also I don’t feel calm in my surroundings.