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Showing posts from March, 2014

Home is where the clutter is

I had a great conversation with a friend the other day about all the different ways we procrastinate before diving into housework (ironic, eh?).  I wistfully thought aloud about how amazing it would be to have someone come in and take care of my Arch-Nemesis of Daily Tasks:  the dishes.  "Well," she said, "I've worked for people before who have someone come in and clean once a week...but they clean up beforehand." "...Wait, what?!"  "Yeah!  They would ask me on those days to empty and load the dishwasher and clean off the counters, otherwise she wouldn't fully clean the kitchen." I am still reeling over this tidbit of information.  What the hell is the point of paying someone to clean when you are going to clean so they will have a clean enough area to perform their daily or weekly cleaning?!  I can only imagine the contract.  "I hereby authorize Mary Poppins to come in and sing a song, snap her fingers, and give off the app

"I'm not dead yet!"

Has it really been that long since I last blogged?!  I mean, truthfully, I seem to remember writing a whole lot more over the past month.  I'd say that it must have been a dream, but I would have to sleep in order to dream about anything.  There hasn't been a whole lot of that over the past month, either.  I lovingly describe my daughter as a crawling-and-cruising petri dish.  I love my child to pieces, but let's be real here - she's kind of disgusting.  The amount of snot and saliva that pours out of her face on a daily basis isn't just gross - it's downright impressive.  It doesn't help that she goes to daycare full-time, where she is surrounded by other crawling-and-cruising-and-dripping-and-oozing petri dishes from the age of three months to the brink of toddlerhood.  Needless to say, my home has had a bubonic cloud surrounding it throughout the past thirty days.  Because those baby germs are freaking potent .  She coughed twice:  my husband came d