On why I read 1000 books but never sweep the floor

My upstairs floor needs to be swept, but I have cats to pet
     tea to sip.
My kitchen counters could use wiped down,
     but my daughter is here
       talking of the TARDIS.
My dishes are steadily piling in the sink,
     but I've texted a friend
          we're meeting for lunch.
My kitchen floor is a sticky maze of cat drool and kibble bits,
     but my new running shoes came in
          they need broken in.
My downstairs floor needs vacuumed and steamed,
     but I've started a new book
          the characters are engaging.
My laundry room is filled with laundry.
My bathrooms present a potential health hazard.
My bed hasn't been made since the last time I washed sheets
     - can't recall when that last happened.
I've read women feel guilt about their houses
     about dirt and grime and clutter
          dust and bits of lint.
My house is a disheveled mess, but the people who live here
     are too busy 
          enjoying life and love and passion
               to care about sweeping the floor.