Friday, October 16, 2009


OK, so we're cleaning today. I actually went to bed at a reasonable hour last night (this morning) at about midnight. Hey, that's as reasonable as I get, deary.

So, the cleaning.

I may actually be able to cook/bake in my kitchen this weekend! I have visions of casseroles and soups and pastas and cakes and cookies and cupcakes and breads dancing in my tiny little mind (1000 points to anyone who got the abridged Shakespeare reference). SOOOO excited by a clean kitchen.

We've cleaned so much, you'd think it's spring! And, because it's Sacramento, it totally feels like it! I think it was around 80 today. Wonderful when you're trying to clean AND save on air conditioning costs.

So, the hubby was trying to drain-o the bathtub; cos, let's face it, I have a lot of hair; and it just wouldn't drain. So, borrowing the drainsnake from friendly apartment manager/friend J, I went to work. I had to argue with my husband to let me do it. "Just let the drain-o work!" he yelled at me. YELLED. That's right, he yelled at me. He gets his panties in a bunch when he knows I'm right. *sigh* but whatever. :-) I love being married! Hahaha!

Tangent! So, anyway... listening to Arcade Fire at the moment (if you know not of what I speak, seriously do yourself a favor and either go download some Arcade Fire or You Tube the Where The Wild Things Are trailor, cos they do the song for it. You will thank me. Profusely. You can send me cash at... oh, nm, my pleasure.)

Anywho... where was I? Oh yeah, clean apartment. Well, except for the bedroom which looks like someone filled a SCUD with our clothes and set it off in our room. Clothes everywhere! BUT! I think I washed all the dirty ones finally so now it just needs to all be put away. Here's the other issue: I have too many clothes! Most of which I DO NOT WEAR. My ex-but-soon-to-be-new-again neighbor is doing a thrift bazaar thing at her church and asking us all to donate what we don't want. The proceeds go to the homeless. Hey, I'm all for it as long as the proceeds don't go to the child molesting/cross-dressing outwardly-prudish pastors and deacons. All for it. So. I must sort. The cripes I wear from the shite I never do or I don't fit into. Oh, how I fear that the latter pile will be huge, and the former will be TINY. Ah, we'll see.

Anyway, I'm going to post this mother and get crackin' at it again. Need to complete the second load of dishes.

No comments:

Post a Comment