i’m really fucking tired today. that’s what’ll happen if you don’t get to bed until after midnight and you’re awake before five the next morning, i suppose.
i knew that there was a direct correlation between my mental state and the state of my home, but since embarking on this co-habitation adventure, it’s become ever more apparent to me. especially when situations conspire to rob me of any perceived control over them. as soon as i feel like i don’t have any input or way to resolve the situation… i start cleaning.
that’s why i was vacuuming and doing dishes at 10:30 last night.
the why isn’t important, but when i found myself all ramped-up, anxious and more than a little bit angry last night, i knew that i wasn’t going to fall back to sleep anytime soon. so, instead of just stewing and torturing myself, i went downstairs to reclaim my space from a weekend of kids tracking flotsam and other schmutz all over my floors. then the dishwasher needed emptying after i cleaned the dinner dishes. oh, and the dining table had to be scrubbed of the spaghetti which was strewn all over it. i might have thought about washing the kitchen floor, but i’m not a fucking martyr.
oh, how mightily powerful one feels fueled by frustration and impotent rage.
also, yay for not sharing walls. i’d have gotten all sorts of flack if i’d tried that level of cleaning at that time of night in my old apartment.
afterwards, i rage-ate some Girl Guide cookies and binge-watched some Joel McHale Show until i couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. just like i couldn’t keep my eyes open after driving to work this morning (hello five-minute nap in my car) or after lunch this afternoon (hello ten-minute nap on my desk).
but, at least my floors will be clean and my kitchen counters clear when i finally get home tonight. i need at least one win this week, because i have a lot of trepidation about how the rest of it is going to turn out. with the amount of control i’m going to have at my disposal this coming week, i wouldn’t be surprised that the house will be so glitteringly clean by sunday night that you could eat off the toilets and perform surgery on the floors.