Meh.

I’m still ‘repurposing’ furniture all over the house. This, there. That, here. Wait, if I put that with this over yonder…

In real terms, of course, this means that my house looks as if somebody picked it up off the foundation, shook it like a snow globe, and then plonked it back down to admire the way all the debris floats around and ends up all higgledy-piggledy. My bedroom is bearing the brunt of it all, because I am moving my base of operations up here – the dresser and armoire have gone out to be replaced by my computer / craft table and a little corner where I can sit and knit while the Denizen frolic merrily in their bedrooms under my kindly gaze and my husband works downstairs, by himself, without interrupting me every eight seconds with expletives regarding this or that server, or commands to “look at this, this is totally cool, see, what this does is {insanely detailed explanation, during which I attempt to look both intelligent and interested, when really I’m just waiting for him to run out of adjectives so I can get back to counting stitches or whatever I was thinking about without starting WWIII right here in the Den}.”

Saturday, before the SAM-e kicked my butt, I completely pulled apart our bedroom, from the huge walk-in closet to the dresser drawers to the armoire. ALL the clothes, out on the bed, naked and shamed in the light of day – which revealed that I owned an awful lot of ancient clothing I hadn’t worn in several sizes.

I still had a pair of size 14 pants (I’m back down to a 6 now). And silk shirts that went o-u-t in the early 90s. Plus also slacks that had shrunk (no, really, they had!) to the point where they resembled floods. Modern archeological techniques unearthed three (3) pairs of pants that have been waiting for hems for at least three years now.

Oy.

The dinner dishes have not been washed. The dishwasher is already full of clean dishes. My bed is buried beneath about forty pounds of paperwork, computer equipment, clean laundry I meant to put away (oops), and so forth.

There is a huge box of hangers in the middle of the floor posing a threat to life and limb. Honestly, I do not know how I came by so many ‘extra’ hangers. You would think I had everything from my suits to my socks dry cleaned or something, I have so many cheap hangers in this Den…

And also a basket full of stuff that I said, “OK, and, I’ll go through this when I get a second…”

You know, there are times when I look at everything I no, really, I mean it need to do before I go to bed, and all I can think is… “Meh.”

I do not guarantee that I won’t just get up from this desk (conveniently located near my bed), walk over to said edifice, shove everything currently on it onto the floor (on my husband’s side, of course), climb in and pretend I have never heard of this strange custom called ‘cleaning the kitchen’.

I am sorry, your Earth ways are strange to me…

I will, of course, be furious with myself in the morning, when I’m trying to make coffee and have neither clean coffee-making implements nor a space large enough to set them available to me. I will also be in a state of high holy wrath if it takes me three weeks to find some bill or other I should have paid tomorrow, or if my husband breaks another toe on all the rubbish.

However…I really, really don’t feel like dealing with any of it right now. It has been a very, very long day – one of the ‘started at 4:30’ days. And I need it to be over, right immediately now.

Except that I suppose I’ll need to move that old desk out of the way, in order to get into the bathroom.

And probably I really had better pick up those rods that are jutting out from beneath the bed, because one of us really is going to break some body part or other on them otherwise.

Wait!

…I just heard something…

Oh.
My.
GAWD.

The husband…he’s…no, wait…I must go to the door and listen…this can’t be true…

Holy carp.

Let it be known that on this day in history, May 8, 2007, my husband spontaneously and without nagging afore-action, decided to do the dishes.

**sniff**

I am so happy, I may just have to clear a path on his side of the bed…