I Don’t Know What Came Over Me
Have you ever felt like aliens have taken over your body? Because that’s what happened to me today.
I spent six hours cleaning my house. Who am I?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a total slob. Generally if you stop by the place would be presentable. But no one would ever call me a neat freak. I can sleep soundly with a sink full of dishes. I’ve been known to take over the guest room rather than change the sheets on my own bed. And baby Cecilias keep popping out of the corners here. [But part of that is because that dog sheds more than is caninely possible. If I knew how to do the whole video blog thing I would prove it to you. Just petting her unleashes a fur blizzard, even though I brush her regularly.]
Anyhoo. Last night before bed I was flipping through my Woman’s Day magazine. Because I am training for middle age. I plan to subscribe to Reader’s Digest next year. Don’t judge me. This article caught my attention. Maybe it’s because they used a list format, I don’t know. What I do know is that I got home way earlier than I ever expected today and I decided to make use of the time by cleaning house. Wacky, right? I even dusted each bottle in my wine rack!
At 8pm my sister calls. When I tell her what I’ve been up to she says, “Why are you doing that? Mom and Dad aren’t coming to visit.” Because Sister knows me. So I figure that her call is a sign that I should stop and call it a day. And she agreed with me and made me promise not to vacuum any more.
Except I did.
After she hung up I vacuumed the stairs and the first floor. My house is entirely clean. Fresh sheets on the beds, scrubbed floors, de-furred sofa, throw rugs freshly laundered.
I’m afraid of myself.
Mom and Dad, you might as well come on up.