Wednesday, May 4, 2011

5-4-11 not my morning

Despite this being Intergalactic Star Wars Day (May the 4th. . . be with you. . . ) it has not been my morning.

I was noticing yesterday, the day after the sign disappeared from our yard and the day other realtors started calling about wanting to sell our house, that it sure didn't take long for the stress of keeping the house clean to immediately be evidenced by the crap that is suddenly not getting done. Yesterday morning Bob had brought me a first cup of coffee and a muffin, but later on I'd gone downstairs to get a second cup of coffee and fill the dog bowls and ended up cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. No big deal.

And a lot goes on downstairs when I'm not there. Bob emptied the dishwasher some time yesterday, because I'd run it during the morning cleaning. And all of last night's dinner dishes had been cleaned up. But somehow, again this morning there was still a bunch of stuff that ended up in the sink; this morning I needed to get myself coffee and breakfast, and so I did another round of cleaning while I was there. I stared at the piles of laundry now back to their regular position -- all over the laundry room area and decided it was not worth hurting myself leaning in and over to swap things and start another load. I had also stared at the laundry basket upstairs with clean clothes waiting to be folded and wondered how to pick it up safely.

So again this morning, wash out, clean up, wipe down, get coffee, set up rest of coffee in the portable thermos to take up with me, get cereal, balance everything on a tray, walk upstairs, hands full,, backwards two feet on each stair carefully, and think, ok, no more stairs for a bit, but at least the downstairs, with exception of laundry room, is clean again.

And then I turn around and see this:


Sigh.

Back down the stairs, backwards, two feet on each step, carrying the dog bowls. Back up the stairs the same way. Dogs commence eating.

Strange noise 5 minutes later results in discovering that Katy has eaten half her bowl too quickly and has now horked up almost totally whole pieces of dog food in two slimy, slightly yellowish goo piles on my bedroom floor. Now, the family can fuss at me all they like, but I don't give a rat's patooty if I hurt myself, this is NOT staying on the floor for hours until someone else can get on their hands and knees to clean it up.

In the midst of this, I'd made the mistake of signing into IM early and was getting messages about work before work was even supposed to start. So I'm hearing these IM "nudges" and emails dropping in while I'm cleaning up dog puke before 8 in the morning thinking that the 4th is most definitely not with me this morning.

Maybe it'll be with me this afternoon.

Or not. ;)





0 comments:

Post a Comment