I'm old and just slightly domestic. I'm sitting here at my desk inwardly squeeee! ing.
Stanley Steemer is cleaning the rug in the living room as I sit here not working. Wheeee! When I go home there will be beautiful pristine tan rugs where once there were beer-y, soda-y, small patch of resistant cat barf-y nastiness. I am so excited it's unnatural.
The thought just crossed my mind that I should have gotten before pictures, but no, I am too embarrassed. They were bad, ladies and gentlemen. BAD. But the situation is good now, or getting there. I hope they can get the splatter of candle wax out, too, that would rock the house.
It's usually at this point in the semester that my already not-great domestic skillz start to slack off. They kick right back in after all papers are submitted, graded, etc. Usually right in time to put up the tree. And compounding the usual slacking was my stupid foot (hey, did I mention I got my cast off on Tuesday? Sweet freedom!) No mas! Accompanying my newfound emphasis on balancing school with home is increased attention to my housework. I am never going to be a neatfreak like I was in college, but it's going to be better.
Don't worry, my quest for a new feature will not be satisfied by Housework Fridays, I promise. Ew.