moodyAnyway, today is Saturday and that means the grand whole-house cleaning and laundry. Of course I keep getting ambitious, so cleaning the house starts with de-cobwebbing the ceiling. (If this doesn't happen at least every two weeks, the spiders stage a coup and start ordering take-out pizza nightly. It wouldn't be so bad, but I hate moth-flavored pizza.) Naturally, this throws gobs of dust in the air. Naturally, I'm savagely allergic to house dust. *achoo*
It's hard to get over-ambitious with doing laundry, but I have achieved that too: I took the two antique quilts and ran them through the washer. They are drying outside in the sun, now, draped over hedges. (Purists would say they should only be hand-washed in an additive-free detergent like Orvus, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. And I use these things, as they were intended; they don't just hang on a wall to be admired.)
I don't mind doing the work on the assigned day. Trying to cover for incomplete stuff from earlier days is tiring and demotivating, though. (The cattery didn't get done on Wednesday; just the spare bedroom and Rorschach's quarters. So of course it's a mess.)
This is all flicking to avoid completing my resume. And gratuitious bitchiness, compliments of cyclic hormones and the accompanying cramps.
