(no subject)
So I've decided that I am simply not meant to clean my house. Bad things happen when I do. I need to hire my mom to do it for me, or something.
Case in point: my friend Laura was coming to visit me on Saturday morning, and since this was going to be her first visit to the house, a tour would be required, and it therefore had to look nice. I had migraines the better part of last week, including Friday night, so I wasn't able to work on the cleaning until Saturday morning. I got up at seven, all gung-ho, went to the grocery store to pick up some necessities like Downy, Scrubbing Bubbles, Tilex Fresh Shower and the like, and was back home by 8:15, ready to dive into the cleaning.
First up was the downstairs bathroom. The tub has sliding glass doors, so I climbed inside to Windex them. As I was getting out, I somehow managed to catch my foot on the metal door track, which hurt like a son of a bitch. I writhed around in pain for a few minutes on the living room floor, and then hobbled back to work.
Then I dumped some Mr. Clean in my (divided) kitchen sink and started filling it up with water, so that it could soak for a while. Only I somehow got distracted, walked away from the sink, and proceeded to flood my kitchen. Fortunately, I had a very large stack of newspapers, which came in handy for soaking up the small lake on my hardwood floor. For whatever reason, it never occurred to me to use actual towels.
I also hauled out a mop and bucket, to try and soak up the remaining water, and managed to pinch my pinky finger with it and give myself a blood blister. I finally surrendered and called my mom and asked her to come help me, in large part because Laura was supposed to arrive at 11, and I was rapidly running out of time. As it was, I literally stepped out of the shower and got dressed at 10:56. Fortunately, she was about 15 minutes late.
The remainder of the weekend was good--I got to hang out with my godson and his brother Saturday night, which always puts me in a good mood. Especially since my godson, who's a little over a year and a half old, kept coming over to me so I would give him a kiss on the cheek. He's so cute!
Sunday night I went to the final Cubs-Sox game at Wrigley Field, which kicked all sorts of ass, particularly since the Cubs won. We were in the upper deck on the right field side, and we could see fireworks off in the distance, which was pretty cool.
And then this morning started out badly, as I was getting dressed for work. Went to put on my bra, which had been hanging on the closet door overnight, and a bug fell out of it. Totally freaked me out. What if it hadn't fallen out as I was putting it on? Ugh. I hate bugs.
Case in point: my friend Laura was coming to visit me on Saturday morning, and since this was going to be her first visit to the house, a tour would be required, and it therefore had to look nice. I had migraines the better part of last week, including Friday night, so I wasn't able to work on the cleaning until Saturday morning. I got up at seven, all gung-ho, went to the grocery store to pick up some necessities like Downy, Scrubbing Bubbles, Tilex Fresh Shower and the like, and was back home by 8:15, ready to dive into the cleaning.
First up was the downstairs bathroom. The tub has sliding glass doors, so I climbed inside to Windex them. As I was getting out, I somehow managed to catch my foot on the metal door track, which hurt like a son of a bitch. I writhed around in pain for a few minutes on the living room floor, and then hobbled back to work.
Then I dumped some Mr. Clean in my (divided) kitchen sink and started filling it up with water, so that it could soak for a while. Only I somehow got distracted, walked away from the sink, and proceeded to flood my kitchen. Fortunately, I had a very large stack of newspapers, which came in handy for soaking up the small lake on my hardwood floor. For whatever reason, it never occurred to me to use actual towels.
I also hauled out a mop and bucket, to try and soak up the remaining water, and managed to pinch my pinky finger with it and give myself a blood blister. I finally surrendered and called my mom and asked her to come help me, in large part because Laura was supposed to arrive at 11, and I was rapidly running out of time. As it was, I literally stepped out of the shower and got dressed at 10:56. Fortunately, she was about 15 minutes late.
The remainder of the weekend was good--I got to hang out with my godson and his brother Saturday night, which always puts me in a good mood. Especially since my godson, who's a little over a year and a half old, kept coming over to me so I would give him a kiss on the cheek. He's so cute!
Sunday night I went to the final Cubs-Sox game at Wrigley Field, which kicked all sorts of ass, particularly since the Cubs won. We were in the upper deck on the right field side, and we could see fireworks off in the distance, which was pretty cool.
And then this morning started out badly, as I was getting dressed for work. Went to put on my bra, which had been hanging on the closet door overnight, and a bug fell out of it. Totally freaked me out. What if it hadn't fallen out as I was putting it on? Ugh. I hate bugs.