I know we're all just baffled by my sudden need to clean. OK, maybe it's just me and Mum (who is, I'm sure, scratching her head in bewilderment and wondering what medication I'm on and why I didn't start taking it sooner) who are wondering, but pretend, OK? I crave validation.
Were I knocked up, I could blame nesting, although when I was pregnant, I never wanted to clean a damn thing (especially not the cat boxes but y'all must know how that went)(What is it with cat boxes, anyway??). But I'm not knocked up. In case you wondered. I'd hate to leave you in suspense. Where was I?
Oh, right, cleaning. Whew, nice clean...er...dirty...er...safe subject.
So why the sudden interest in a diminished stockpile of cat hair, dust Yetiiiiii (Yeti? Yeties? How do you pluralize that??), and fossilized cat barf? Why get rid of the emergency supply of stale Cheerios under the couch, our collection of armor piercing french fries around the computer desk, the dirty laundry that seems to be the only unifying decorative factor throughout the house?
I think I figured it out.
I think it's because we have new neighbors. Yep. It's because there's the tiniest chance they could come over here, maybe come inside and hang out a bit. I can't keep them in the yard forever, can I? And if they do want to socialize, I'd like to have a home that doesn't look like a frat-house inside. Also, I really don't want them seeing the mess and thereafter politely accepting baked goods from me with a smile and, when I'm gone, dumping them in the trash ("Have you seen her messy house? I'm not eating anything that came out of there unless it was shrink-wrapped by the manufacturer first!)(Although my kitchen is not messy. Just the rest of the house.).
I couldn't just be tired of a mess and suddenly realize that if I want a clean house, I have to clean it. Nope, that couldn't be it.
What I am curious to know is what T's excuse is - he's not pregnant and nesting (if he is, I get publishing rights) and I don't think he's ever given a fig for what anyone thinks of the state of our home. So why's he all of a sudden taking it upon himself to empty and rearrange the garage so we can open van and freezer doors at the same time? Why do three loads of dishes in two days without nagging on my part (I feel so empty and unnecessary), and take out the trash just because - gasp - it's full??
Yeah, I'm lookin' for the pod. Next month. After the garage is completely rearranged and we've gone through our room. Or maybe the month after, once the dining room is tidy. Or...well, why look for the pod, really? I mean...he's probably happy being kidnapped by aliens, right? Guys love power tools, and what's better than alien power tools? That's all a probe is, right? Right.
So, yeah...umm...I'm going to sweep over there, now...
Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!
"...besides love, independence of thought is the greatest gift an adult can give a child." - Bryce Courtenay, The Power of One
For old quotes, look here.
For old quotes, look here.