I am cleaning the house in preparation for a work event that will happen at my house on October 20th. I thought, and I’m convinced I’m right, that by starting to clean 5 weeks ahead it would not be so painful or overwhelming and also, I could actually do a better job instead of stuffing things into closets at the last moment and opening the door to guests in a state of sweaty frenzy. As is my usual practice.
And I think I am doing a better job, actually. So far I have cleaned my room (partly by relegating some things to Nora’s room, it is true) and I am cleaning out my closet, too, finding some old things that fit again and putting together some semblance of a wardrobe for fall. It actually feels great to do this before the weather turns. A large problem, though, is that Lucy is sleeping in one of my drawers. This means I can’t vacuum. She hates the vacuum cleaner, and she looks so peaceful I would hate to disturb her.
I would like to vacuum, though, because then I would be done with that room., and really the upstairs, except for the bathroom.
I am feeling closed in. I am feeling like I need to get out. I can’t walk because of my stupid foot, although it is getting better, but I feel stuck, although I am getting things taken care of. I would like to clean out the basement as well. I would also like to go out on a bike ride. Even with my stupid foot I think I can do that. It’s plantar faschiitis. Or perhaps frostbite. At this point I think I might welcome amputation if it would mean I could go hiking again.
Part of the problem with the downstairs, which I have not got to yet, is that the furniture is all wrong. I plan to deal with that once I get down here . . . perhaps by lighting a large bonfire.
Oh, and the other thing I need to do is to pick our apples.
So there you have it. The story of everything — or everything I know about. Hmmm. Reading back, I think I had better get outside before I become violent. I’ll go fill the tires right now.