It has occurred to me recently that I really need to get better about housework. I can't stand it and I try to be immune to the obvious, but it's catching up with me.
We have pets and that means hair. At this point, though, we have friggin' tumble-fur rolling down the hallway. It's quite impressive, actually. However, if we ever have drop-in company (no! no! no!), they're going to be appalled at the lack of housekeeping around here.
The bathroom is a little scary, but nothing that would upset the Department of Health at this point. The kitchen is good, but only because my husband takes care of that. We haven't had a dishwasher for two weeks, ever since our 2-year-old Kenmore, oh, caught on fire. We decided to spring for a Bosch, and it's taking so long to come in that, I swear to God, Sears is having it built for us and imported from Germany. There is no way in Hell I am going to wash dishes by hand (it's all I can do to put my dinner plate in the dishwasher), so my poor husband has had to abandon other tasks to manage the kitchen. The counter is always stacked with paper clutter--most of it mine. The only thing I hate more than cleaning is filing.
Anyway, this all occurred to me because I've been having to pull pet hair out from between the keys of my laptop--every day. If I can motivate myself to manage all of the clutter, maybe I'll vacuum tomorrow. That's maybe with a really big capital M.
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