To you, maybe cleaning is a chore. Maybe the dishes pile up and you consider reusing one that’s been dirtied before. Or, maybe a sink billowing with soapy spuds is, as it is for me, better than seeing a shrink.

On crazy weeks, such as the one which was just deemed ‘complete’ (Hallelujah, praise be), I find myself obsessively cleaning. However, I don’t make my bed, pick up my clothes, run a vacuum or dust the blinds (all of which I most certainly need to). Instead, I scrub pots, pans, forks and spoons.

My roommates sing melodies of Thanksgiving whenever they come home to a countertop of sparkling utensils and pottery. What they don’t know is that the kitchen’s cleanliness is a self-serving act to maintain my sanity.

The water drips down my fingers. The sponge’s gritty edge tugs and scrubs. I relish the satisfaction of a job well and done.

Something about making dirty dishes clean helps me destress. I think Jessie Muieller sings it best:

“Make it work

Make it easy

Make it clever, craft it into pieces

Make it sweet

Crimp the edges

Or make it sour and serve with lemon wedges

Even doubt

Can be delicious

And it washes off of all the dirty dishes

When it's done

I can smile

It's on someone else's plate for a while

I'll place it on display

And then I'll slice and serve my worries away.”

- "What Baking Can Do" by: Sara Bareilles from the Broadway musical ‘Waitress’

Submerging a dish beneath the soapy waves, I drown my worries.

Muscles tensed with daily pressures relax as I lose myself in the rhythmic washing. The kitchen hums with music that perfectly captures my mood.

Pop, for the days that I need to be reminded that I am young and free. Country, for the days I just feel sassy. Broadway, for the days I need to be inspired by life’s unforeseen harmonies. Big Band, for the romantic, that sap, who beats inside me.

Sponge in hand, stalkers might catch me mid-jam. Occasionally, I even make the glasses clink along with the beat.

So the next time you pick up the phone to call a shrink, consider this alternative, one that is free! Turn on some tunes, scrub a dish and sing along with Jessie Mueller, “I can fix this.”

Yes, anxious me, you CAN fix this, one dish at a time.