Which is not to say that I'm not accomplishing anything; I am. My never-ending war against the dishes is still being raged, somewhat successfully; the children have a great deal of clean clothing, and even though none of it is folded (it's littered around the house in various laundry baskets, separated by colour) it's still spotless and fresh, if a little wrinkly, AND there are matching socks (miracles do happen). Also the living room is vacuumed within an inch of its life which, in the interest of full disclosure, it owes less to my zealous pursuit of cleanliness and more to my having knocked a glass off the coffee table yesterday, which smashed into a bajillion pieces and which I could hardly leave just laying around. Whatever. Clean is clean.
But doing a few loads of laundry and loading the dishwasher once or twice hardly classifies as a blistering pace on the productivity front, and every time I think about doing something more demanding (like dusting the house, which it desperately needs, or actually finishing the dishes) I get distracted and then sigh a lot, and then decide that a hot chocolate and a cheese string snack is in order, and then this happens
|Desperation, thy name is "Chloe" ... Please may I have some cheese string please please please?|
and after determining that the internet is much more fun than dusting, I sacrifice valuable daylight to intense periods of blog-reading, web-surfing and general time-wasting.
Or, as happened yesterday, I decide that my most pressing domestic concern is not the dishes or the laundry or the dusting or the vacuuming, it's PAINTING. In particular, I decide that my hallway desperately needs a fresh coat of paint because I'm sick and tired of looking at a whole bunch of brown when all I really want to see is a sea of white. So after a snack of hot chocolate and cheese strings, during which this happened
I washed down all the walls and the baseboards, broke out my trusty paint brush and cracked open the can of paint, and proceeded to cut in around all the door frames and most of the baseboards before getting distracted again. Also I realized that I didn't have any foam rollers left in my stash, which was very disappointing, but trekking all the way to the Depot seemed like a lot of work (that would only in result in more work when I got home, since it would then be incumbent upon me to actually roll if I had the roller in my possession) so instead I took a break, sat down and sacrificed more valuable daylight to blog-reading, web-surfing and general time-wasting.
Having started the painting project, however, I've got no choice but to finish it, preferably this week. I've got some big plans for my little hallway that include a fresh white palette, some new artwork and maybe ~ maybe! ~ a gold metallic ceiling?? I'm toying with it. And that g~damn light fixture is going up if it kills me. Which it might: I'm not known for my outstanding balancing skills in general, let alone on ladders. There's a real possibility of injury here, peeps. Keep your fingers crossed.
On that note, I'm off retrieve a Retriever (my mum's) from the vet and deliver her home, buy myself some new rollers, drop off some photos at our local photo shop to get scanned and then get moving on the painting! And of course, the dishes and the laundry and the dusting ...
Sorry for the