For nearly twelve years, I have prepared at least one homecooked meal for my husband and myself every day.  This is my contribution to our shared life, and it is a task that comes easily to me.  I love recipes, and I love food.  My kitchen is tiny and cluttered, but it is a Zen spot for my creative energy. That half hour in the evening?  The one where I chop, bake, and sizzle while my dog is on guard for scraps that drop?

It is a mediation, of sorts.  I feel grounded, creative, and happy.  Also, I love grocery shopping.  (The trick is getting to the grocery store on a weekday, early afternoon.  People hate grocery shopping, I suspect, because they go at the worst possible times.)

So when Travis and I recently shifted roles, with me taking on more of our household's income generation, he offered to tackle the weekly shopping.

"Sure," I said.  "That would be awsome."

I never expected to miss grocery shopping as profoundly as I do, but there it is.  I miss it.  While it is interesting to see the results of his shopping logic (four pounds of fresh salmon?), I miss the adventure part.  What is on sale?  How can I change ingredients to meals?

As I grapple with the whole idea of gender roles, power dynamics, and a weepy nostalgia for the time I no longer spend in my kitchen, Travis suggests that I'm overthinking it. 

"As much as I love your cooking, I love being able to pay our bills so much more."

This is true, too.  I suppose.

Challenge:  What do you overthink?  What activities tap into your creative energy?  What chores do not feel like chores?