Not nearly as clever as I think I is...

So, after a somewhat trying day, I had this little nugget of realization spring into my head: "There is no reward for doing the right thing...doing the right thing IS the reward unto itself" (yes, thoughts worded like this actually do pop into my head ALL THE TIME). This, admittedly, is sometimes less than instantly gratifying, but there you go. Thinking I was now some sort of philosophical giant whose brilliance the world had yet to recognize, I wondered if this idea had been proffered before. Yep. "Virtue is its own reward. There's a pleasure in doing good which sufficiently pays itself." Sir John Vanvbrugh circa 1700. Dammit! Total buzz kill. The bastard...

Also, on an unrelated note, can you explain this to me? I spent THREE HOURS cleaning my house yesterday, and the minute (no joke. Almost instantaneously as I turned off the vacuum, the door bell rang) I finished, my mom and sister showed up with yet another in an endless series of artsy/fartsy/craftsy things to do to decorate my daughters bedroom. In no time at all it was a mountain of packing material from Pottery Barn Teen, saw dust from having to Dremmel Tool out an ill fitting wood piece on an object, and various pens and tools scattered throughout upstairs. Time I got to enjoy a clean and tidy home? 23.9 nanoseconds. Now, the thing is, my family knows that one of the few ways I can truly relax is by having a quiet, calm, CLEAN AND TIDY home. It allows me to unwind without the hum of things that need to be done buzzing within my head. So, I am at a loss as to why they would do this? They had to wait until I cleaned my home? The stuff had been sitting around for days, and they waited until NOW???? If they had chained me to the floor, pried open my eyelids, filled my eye sockets with gasoline and lit them ablaze like I was some sort of hellish Tiki torch, it would have caused me less distress. And the amazing thing is, as well as they know me, they totally DID NOT GET IT. Beginning to wonder if I'm being Gaslighted, or if perhaps when I speak to my family (all women by the way), all they hear is a series of grunts like I am some sort of ill tempered simian.