Home alone on a Sunday morning...The only time this ever happens is when I’m feeling sickish. Yeah. That would be me. And the real bummer is, I’m sitting here, and there is so much right in front of me TO DO. Starting with the screen of this laptop: it needs to be dusted. How does one dust a lap top screen, anyways? (It’s a mac).
I currently, without removing myself from my chair, can see three baskets of laundry that need to be folded.
The top of the coffee table is completely covered in crap: a box of colored pencils, books, papers, hair brush, kleenex box, CD’s a pair of scissors, junk mail, my planner, a bug catcher...sigh.
I see that the jumbling tower game has fallen off the game shelf in the corner and is spilled all over the floor. (I ought to save that for one of my minions to clean up later when they get back home. )
An open box containing a new modem from our internet provider sits in front of the dusty TV, waiting to be instelled. Cat food is scattered under my desk, my shoes are muddy and need to be cleaned off, and my desk is a disaster. As bad as the coffee table. And the cat is curled up, upside down, on a pile of clean laundry that got dumped on the couch.
Moving into the kitchen...the dishes need to be washed. Knowing the floor, it needs swept and mopped as well. What is it with kitchen floors? As soon as I sweep or mop, or both, it’s dirty again? Why oh, WHY did I ever install white vinyl flooring in there?? (It was probably on sale).
And so on and so forth.
My life is very small. If I divide the size of my house by the number of people that live in it, it averages out to 250 square feet per person. No wonder I feel like there’s no place to put anything.
That’s because there’s no place to put anything.
I want to go to England. And tour Europe. I want to ride a train. A plane. Stick my toes in the water on a beach somewhere. I want to get in the car and just drive until I get someplace interesting.
Knowing me, that would be the public library. It’s only two miles away. Technically, I could walk it. I have, in the past.
Oh, and I really really want to go to Russia. Not that I speak Russian, or anything like that. And Romania. I hear it’s gorgeous there. I’ve seen pictures. Looks much like the non-alpine parts of Switzerland without all the money.
I’ve got it bad.
7:28 AM -
I currently, without removing myself from my chair, can see three baskets of laundry that need to be folded.
The top of the coffee table is completely covered in crap: a box of colored pencils, books, papers, hair brush, kleenex box, CD’s a pair of scissors, junk mail, my planner, a bug catcher...sigh.
I see that the jumbling tower game has fallen off the game shelf in the corner and is spilled all over the floor. (I ought to save that for one of my minions to clean up later when they get back home. )
An open box containing a new modem from our internet provider sits in front of the dusty TV, waiting to be instelled. Cat food is scattered under my desk, my shoes are muddy and need to be cleaned off, and my desk is a disaster. As bad as the coffee table. And the cat is curled up, upside down, on a pile of clean laundry that got dumped on the couch.
Moving into the kitchen...the dishes need to be washed. Knowing the floor, it needs swept and mopped as well. What is it with kitchen floors? As soon as I sweep or mop, or both, it’s dirty again? Why oh, WHY did I ever install white vinyl flooring in there?? (It was probably on sale).
And so on and so forth.
My life is very small. If I divide the size of my house by the number of people that live in it, it averages out to 250 square feet per person. No wonder I feel like there’s no place to put anything.
That’s because there’s no place to put anything.
I want to go to England. And tour Europe. I want to ride a train. A plane. Stick my toes in the water on a beach somewhere. I want to get in the car and just drive until I get someplace interesting.
Knowing me, that would be the public library. It’s only two miles away. Technically, I could walk it. I have, in the past.
Oh, and I really really want to go to Russia. Not that I speak Russian, or anything like that. And Romania. I hear it’s gorgeous there. I’ve seen pictures. Looks much like the non-alpine parts of Switzerland without all the money.
I’ve got it bad.
7:28 AM -
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