Being Sisyphus

Sisyphus was a figure in Greek mythology, the king of Ephyrus (Corinth), which he founded, the spouse of the nymph Merope, and the father of four children, Glaucus, Ornytion, Almus, and Thersander. He was not a nice guy. He violated the Xenia, the Ancient Greek concept of hospitality, which was something like the Catholic notion of welcoming the stranger. In that respect, he was an ancient version of Donald Trump or Steve Bannon. In fact, to show off what a badass he was, he killed travelers and guests to his kingdom. Then he piqued Zeus by tattling to the river god Asopus that Zeus had carried of his daughter, the Naiad-nymph Aigina. In return for that information, Asopus created a spring that provided a continuous supply of fresh water to Corinth. The enraged Zeus then asked Thanatos, the demonic representation of death, born of Nyx, the night, and Erebos, the darkness, to chain Sisyphus and take him to the Underworld. The cunning Sisyphus tricked Thanatos and managed to chain him instead, which serendipitously had a positive result -- it prevented any mortal from dying and going to the Underworld. However Ares, the god of war, got all butthurt because wars just weren't as much fun when you couldn't slay your enemies, so Ares managed to trap Sisyphus and hand him over to Thanatos, who carted him off to Tartarus, the most terrible prison in the Underworld. Wheeler-dealer Sisyphus then asked his wife Merope not to bury his corpse, which  somehow ended up on the banks of the River Styx, the boundary between the Underworld and the realm of the living. He used that information to persuade Persephone, queen of the Underworld, to let him go back to the living world to arrange a decent burial for himself and to punish Merope. Persephone, not on board with sisterhood, allowed this. As soon as he got out of the Underworld, Sisyphis, needless to say, refused to return. Eventually Hermes, who could move freely between worlds, dragged him back.

Zeus, by now thoroughly exasperated with Sisyphus, devised a special punishment for him. Sisyphus was doomed for all eternity to roll a boulder up a hill. As soon as the boulder reached the top, it would roll back down and Sisyphus would have to trudge down and push it back up again.

In some respects, my housewifely role resembles the damnation of Sisyphus. Every morning I get up, feed the puppies, clean up their nightly excretions, and swill out the hallway with bleach (they're not perfect at using their piddlepads). I unpack and repack the dishwasher. I pick up in the kitchen and give the floor a quick mop. The following morning, the house looks exactly the same as it did the previous one, so I do it all again. And the next, and the next. 'Snot fair. Unlike Sisyphus, I haven't killed any guests or travelers. I didn't even commit the horrible transgression of naming my son Glaucus (I gave my son a very nice name). And yet, being a housewife, I am in some small ways living the life of Sisyphus.

Sisyphus's boulder, unlike our puppies, did not poop or pee on anything. It remained clean. On the other hand, it wasn't soft and cuddly and cute and fun. And Sisyphus didn't have the satisfaction of coming upon an unsavory mess and leaving the area sparkling clean and sterile. Puppies: 2; boulder: 1. I s'pose ...

I would like to add some creativity and productivity to my life. With my youngest starting college next fall, I need to do more. I am thinking of applying to be a math teacher to either middle or high school students. I have other interests too, but it might not currently be practical to elevate those to goals.