There are a lot of rules in life.

Well, maybe not rules exactly — more like obligations that stalk you from room to room. You have to walk the dog, go to the dentist, do the laundry, and for the love of everything holy, don’t forget the dishes. The dishes never forget you.

The funny thing is, these tasks are oddly reliable. You can do them well, you can do them badly, you can do them while dramatically sighing the entire time — but somehow, they still get done. Eventually. Usually, right before you run out of forks.

Now, some people have found a solution to all of this. They hire a dog walker, a maid, maybe even a private chef, although let’s be honest, that last one is mostly just an elaborate anti-dish strategy. And if you can afford it, why not? Outsourcing the daily grind sounds like a dream. Less hustle, less bustle, fewer passive-aggressive standoffs with your sink.

But the real reward isn’t just avoiding the dishes — it’s getting your time back. That’s the prize. Suddenly, you’ve got space in your day. Time to write a book, spend time with people you love, or sit on a beach and watch the tide roll in. (Preferably not in March — if you’re doing that around here, we have bigger problems, like frostbite and questionable life choices.)

So here’s the question: If all the boring “to-dos” disappeared, what would you actually do with that time?

Would you finally read more? Learn something new? Become the kind of person who casually says, “Oh, I’ve been knitting lately,” as if that’s always been part of your personality? Spend more time with your kids?

Or — be honest — would you just fill that time with different kinds of nothing? A little more scrolling on Facebook, a few extra hours of aggressively mediocre reality TV, telling yourself, “I deserve this,” while three episodes turn into seven?

And listen, if that genuinely makes you happy, go for it. No judgment. But I think there’s something bigger we’re all circling around.

There should be some sense of purpose, something that makes you feel like your time here actually means something. Not in a dramatic, “change the world overnight” kind of way, but in small, human ways.

We all have dreams and goals (or at least a vague idea of them), but what are you doing with the time you do have? I’m not talking about New Year’s resolutions — those usually expire sometime between January optimism and February reality. I’m talking about the things that make you, you.

Do you want to make the world a little kinder? Call a friend and tell them you appreciate them — no occasion needed, just emotional chaos on a Tuesday.

Care about literacy rates in Massachusetts? Spend an hour at your local library reading to kids.

Want to feel more connected, more present, more alive? Start small. It doesn’t have to take a whole day, or even a whole hour. Just something intentional.

Because purpose isn’t built in giant leaps. It’s built in small, slightly awkward, sometimes-on-your-toes steps forward.

And don’t worry, the dishes will still be there tomorrow.

They always are.

So maybe… do something.