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I've been most industrious today. To start with, I've done four whole loads of laundry, a highly unusual feat for me since I generally forget about it after the first load goes into the washing machine and only remember in time to put the clothes in the dryer at bedtime, which (good thing) means that the clothes won't have to be rewashed but also (bad thing) means that 30 minutes after I fall asleep the dryer buzzer will sound, and I will leap out of bed certain that the apocalypse is beginning before I recall that I am just stupid, or easily distracted, or both. And though washing four loads of laundry has taken me all day long, they are washed now, and so the bedtime pressure is off. I can sleep in peace.
In addition to the laundry, though, I have done other things! I drove down to a nearby scabby-but-impressively-cheap discount store to find a replacement for my kitchen radio, and Black Friday notwithstanding, I was in and out in ten minutes. Back home within twenty minutes of pulling out of the driveway. (Which is the way I prefer to shop.) And then with my new radio turned up loud, I sang along to Journey and Foreigner and cleaned the kitchen, and by that I mean that I pulled everything out of the cabinets and wiped them down, cleaned out the oven, reorganized, scrubbed down the refrigerator, things like that. I changed my summer bedding for my winter bedding.
And then I started reorganizing my sunroom so that when my parents bring the big furniture I inherited from my grandmother, I'll have places to put it. I moved an entire dining room table, a massive (and massively useful) but decidedly worse-for-wear table which came with the house, out to the deck by my own self, and while I was moving it, I thought of the furniture coming in, a dining table and chairs and a buffet cabinet, one cupboard of which my grandmother always kept stocked with starlite mints. They were supposed to be her secret stash, but that stash was the worst-kept secret in the world. Everyone knew about it, everyone scrounged from it, and my grandmother would shake her head over her pilfering relatives, and suddenly I was wrestling a gigantic gateleg table and crying.
These things hit at odd moments, sometimes. Not even keeping busy can stave them off.
In addition to the laundry, though, I have done other things! I drove down to a nearby scabby-but-impressively-cheap discount store to find a replacement for my kitchen radio, and Black Friday notwithstanding, I was in and out in ten minutes. Back home within twenty minutes of pulling out of the driveway. (Which is the way I prefer to shop.) And then with my new radio turned up loud, I sang along to Journey and Foreigner and cleaned the kitchen, and by that I mean that I pulled everything out of the cabinets and wiped them down, cleaned out the oven, reorganized, scrubbed down the refrigerator, things like that. I changed my summer bedding for my winter bedding.
And then I started reorganizing my sunroom so that when my parents bring the big furniture I inherited from my grandmother, I'll have places to put it. I moved an entire dining room table, a massive (and massively useful) but decidedly worse-for-wear table which came with the house, out to the deck by my own self, and while I was moving it, I thought of the furniture coming in, a dining table and chairs and a buffet cabinet, one cupboard of which my grandmother always kept stocked with starlite mints. They were supposed to be her secret stash, but that stash was the worst-kept secret in the world. Everyone knew about it, everyone scrounged from it, and my grandmother would shake her head over her pilfering relatives, and suddenly I was wrestling a gigantic gateleg table and crying.
These things hit at odd moments, sometimes. Not even keeping busy can stave them off.
