My family has been getting sick, giving it to each other, and re-infecting me since January. Since the weather has been nice this week, I decided to do Spring Cleaning. I do it every year, but this time I have a mission: No Germ Shall Survive. I have gone forth, armed with anti-bacterial weapons of mass destruction. Lemony-fresh victory is mine!
Or will be, when I finish with the dining room and the living room today. I'm procrastinating here, because the past two days have been GROSS. I am apparently a pig. I've never been June Cleaver, but I can generally fold the laundry and keep the dishes done. But a nook-and-cranny cleaning of my bathrooms and kitchen reveal that I am a Grade-A slob. And my knees are killing me.
I've cleaned out closets, touched icky things, re-organized everything, and gone after the little eight-legged families in the corners who waved hello. I also went on a small trip to Nostalgia- hey, I remember this! I thought I lost this! The kids disavowed all knowledge of this broken cup!
But all the Mission: Clean going on this week has had one positive effect I hadn't expected. I want to write again. I've kind of had a dry spell for a while, and now I've got new ideas, new scenes, new dialogue wandering around my head. Either that, or the oven cleaner fumes really got to me.