At the beginning of the summer, I decided on a path of, "Screw housework. Life is too short."
Unfortunately, due to a series of events, I decided that paying for a cleaning crew to come in twice month was not a financially intelligent move on my part. Cue me keeping the house clean enough to keep the cockroaches away, but that's about it.
Not helping my cause over the past few weeks is that work just got insane, which means that my minimalist approach to housekeeping has become more so.
Making it worse is that thanks to a summer of kayaking, my stamina has gone through the roof. If I don't get in at least 45 minutes to an hour of cardio a day (even if it's a fast walk around the block), I don't sleep. Period.
Yet despite eating healthy and keeping my calorie count to a level that would have me losing 1.5 pounds a week without exercise, I still look like a freaking butterball.
On the other hand, (as I discovered) I can outlast and outrace even grown men in a kayak. Go figure.
Anyway, while it's been a fun (but horribly busy in a I'm-never-home-even-during-the-week kind of way), I am now left with dust bunnies that are on the verge of of sentience. I've already caught a few doing the hunting-and-gathering thing in broad daylight.
What finally cut it for me is that just a few days ago, I caught a dust bunny attempting to invent the wheel (it was kind of squarish, but I think he was close to a breakthrough). That's nothing compared to his buddy, the dust bunny who was well on her way to inventing fire!
Right. Time to wave the white flag and Do Something.
In Which Our Heroine Attempts the Worst Room in the House
My office. It's the place where I chuck clutter, which attracts a layer of dust that's so dusty that everything looks like it's got a grey film.
To say that my office looks like it's straight out of a schizophrenic mind is a bit of an understatement.
It doesn't help that the dust bunnies in that room have organized and invented religion. They're on the verge of a religious war right now, in fact.
(The Veriozonists believe that my wireless FIoS router is the source of life, probably because of the blinking green lights. The HPists believe that the computer is the source of life, mostly because it makes noises and occasionally speaks. The Bookists have been making dust bunny sacrifices to my book cases, whose claim to deity-hood have something to do with size I expect. I won't get into the CDists and the Empty Boxists, as they are too small in number to count.)
Needless to say, it's been a hard slog, and I haven't even gotten to that one closet where I threw my stuff I'd deal with "later" when I moved into this apartment 5 years ago.
On the upside, I found a 1943 Mercury Dime under my desk. I have no clue where it came from, but it's mine now!
The Accidental Ocean Kayaker
What has not helped my progress with the Office of Religious Dust Bunny Warfare is that through a series of complicated and convoluted events I, in the company of one of my co-workers and her family, wound up accidentally doing some ocean kayaking yesterday.
You must wonder how that's possible. It's not like you can go rowing in some random spot and accidentally end up in an ocean environment. Oceans are pretty big things, and not subject to picking up and changing location on a whim. I mean, it's not like the Atlantic Ocean goes, "Hmmmm, this spot of Massachusetts coast is all fine and well, but I'm bored. Let's check out how things are a little bit more inland. I hear the Berkshires are nice this time of year."
However, it is possible to find yourself unexpectedly battling the pull of the Atlantic and 1- to 1.5-foot swells. Swells, I might add, that are breaking over the bow of your 16-foot-long Wilderness Systems Tsunami 165 (with rudder, which you suddenly discover is the Best Thing Ever instead of the Useless Piece of Hardware I Never Use).
I won't get into dodging speeding yachts and power boats that can't actually see your little floatilla of desperate souls wondering what the fuck happened to turn what looked like a pretty placid piece of salt water into a wind-whipping not-so-good time.
For the beginning kayaker my ass.
But how I got myself into such a predicament (even though I kicked the ass of just about every man in and all of the women in the group) is a long story for another day.
I have to admit that today I hurt. Turns out there are some muscles in my upper back and chest (not to mention by biceps and triceps) that are Not Happy about the adventure, which is making my cleaning even less fun than I thought it would be.
Who thought that was possible?
Diving into the Crazy
I won't be finishing my office today, either. In a few hours, I'll be pulling my shit together and going to my congresscritter's town hall meeting.
In theory, healthcare won't be on the agenda. In reality, you bet your bippy that it will be. I expect the crazies to be out in full force, which means that I better get my ass there as a counterbalance.
One good thing about being in Massachusetts. No one'll be packing heat. That shit'll get the police doing more than just frowning at you for your faux pas around here. There's something to be said for that.
Although my congresscritter is on record for healthcare reform and a public option. While I expect he'll be patient about explaining his position, I suspect he won't put up with him or anyone else getting shouted down by the out-of-district lunatics in the back.
Either way, I'll be back to report the LULZ.
ETA: A Mystery
Also, I forgot to add this...
While watching Project Runway this week (Shut up! I'm all about the Gunn...) Lifetime was doing some ad for the "September Secrets" over on the Lifetime Movie Network. Usually I don't bother paying attention for the ads, but this is one of the few times I happened to be watching the screen. I swear I saw Nicholas Brendon in one of the clips, or an actor that looked an awful lot like him.
Just thought I'd throw it out there, because *hands* I dunno what to say about that.
Now, I really must (ugh) get back to cleaning.
Wish me luck. The broom of Divine Sweeping is sure to cause angst among the dust bunnies this day.