What The...?

Separating the elbow grease from the grease...

This week I managed to separate some time from work and, well...work, to clean my house. Most of my house. I did things like use wood cleaner on my cabinets and pumice on my toilets. (Or vica versa). I swept, dusted, mopped, and cleaned out dog kennels as well as family rooms.  I've done the deep, dirty cleaning that I didn't know existed. The Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness-type cleaning.

And I'm still not done.

I believe in a few sick days that I just might have the rest of the house clean.

By the way, the pumice stone I used on my toilet was called something like "Ladies Helper." They can bite me.

'Night

Seperating the filth from the dirt...

I've had two days off, and once again I've gone into that kind of "activity sprint" where you tell yourself that it has been so long since you've done anything of substance, you have to shift it into overdrive to get anything done.

Well, I'm at the end of my days off, and the house STILL isn't done. So I'll buckle down and try to get a little more done before the Mrs. comes home.

Then I'll relax.

'Night

Hunched over in not quite laughter...

In a show of cosmic irony, the nacho cheese and chili dog gods who rule over Superbowl Sunday have sent down a fresh batch of extra-potent stomach flu to me.

Yesterday I was able to keep down some crackers. While this is an improvement, it hardly makes up for a fridge full of hot dogs, chili fixin's, and non-alcoholic beer.

(Non-alcoholic, because I AM a role model)

'Night