I did it. I got up and put my laptop aside and did housework.
Of course, you only have my word for it, don’t you? It’s not like I took pictures of myself mopping, sweeping, replacing blinds, spraying sticky surfaces with cleaner. Maybe this is all a figment of my imagination . . . God knows I can’t let it become a habit.
Are you running a fever or something?
For years I had a sign in my house that read “A clean house is a sign of a misspent life”. It became my montra. I don’t know what happened to that sign, but I still live by what it read. Yesterday I watched “Eat, Pray Love” instead of cleaning my sewing room…today who knows?
Well . . . it hasn’t really been cleaning; I live with a hoarder boarder and discovered areas packed floor to ceiling. I put my head down and am impersonating a chunnel machine.
Then in the actual cleaning phase, Summer’s tutor has been coming twice a week and the social workers for Colin at least four times a week.