Hi Reader,

I don't want to do the f*cking dishes.

I said that out loud in 2019. A year into building my business, exhausted, sitting across from a woman I'd known years earlier and only just reconnected with — a hypnotherapist who was also a mentor and spiritual guide.

And honestly? She didn't have much empathy for me. It seemed too small. Inconsequential.

She was probably right. It sounds ridiculous to be undone by dishes.

And yet. There it was.

I'm telling you this because it's back.

I'm burned out on the household work again. And before you make any assumptions — it's not my husband. He pulls his weight. We both do the laundry, the dishes, the shopping, the cooking. (Some might argue I'm more of a perfectionist about it all, but we can hardly blame him for that, can we?)

Something just switched off. The part of me that can tolerate the routines of an ordinary day.

Some months it's easy. I'm full of energy, and the dishes don't even register.

But lately, I can feel the rage rising the longer it takes to unload the dishwasher.

So I've been sitting with two questions. Is it just me? And what's going on in my inner world that turns a dishwasher into a trigger — when most of the time it's nothing at all?

Here's my best guess.

I'm deep in a creative project right now. Writing, mostly. And every time I'm not writing, I feel guilty — like I should be more focused, more diligent. So anything that eats my time starts to feel like it's stealing from the work.

It's not strictly true. If I'm not doing the dishes, I'm not automatically writing. But there's a nugget of truth in it: the less progress I make, the more furious I get at everything I can blame for getting in the way.

And when I look back at that ragey woman from seven years ago, I see exactly the same thing.

All that drive to build, to create, to see her dreams come to life — and the unbearable sense that it was all crawling along at a snail's pace. Every time she wasn't making progress, she was angry at herself. Caged.

She didn't know where the anger came from. So she sent it somewhere it could safely land.

She wasn't angry at herself for the slow progress.

No. She was angry that there was always so much freakin' laundry to do.

And it makes sense, doesn't it?

So tell me I'm not alone.

And if you've cracked this for yourself — if you know what turns the rage back off — hit reply and tell me the one thing that changed it. I read every reply.

Ragingly yours,

Amanda

P.S. If reading this made something click — if you suspect your own rage (or anxiety, or restlessness) is landing on the wrong target — that's exactly the kind of pattern the Inner Authority Game Plan is built to surface. It helps you see where you're actually stuck, and gives you permission to act on what you find. It's £9. → https://www.amandaparker.co/gameplan​