So I finished painting in the office. And upon moving the bookshelf into the corner where I wanted it, I would have felt a reasonably warranted deep sense of accomplishment, but then I took a minute to look around.
My god! Is this my house? It looks like a bomb went off in here!
I surveyed the damage and essentially came up with the analogy that the place looked like I imagine a house would look if you left an 8 year old home alone for a week, only instead of hot wheels and sundae sprinkles strewn about, it was apparently the home of an 8 year old with a propensity for junk mail, bills, receipts, and dust.
I should note that I don't lend much credence to the idea that we should all be living in homes that are cleaned and polished to the point where they are ready for a professionally-styled photo shoot for "Better Homes and Gardens." I'm all for a home having a lived-in look where you're not afraid to touch anything, but good lord, being able to find a chair somewhere on the main floor that isn't within a foot of a pile of miscellaneous crap might be nice... And I couldn't do that. There was literally crap EVERYWHERE.
Apparently when I set my sights on one task, it applies blinders to every other household chore until the main task is complete. I mean sure I take the trash out before it starts to stink, but I can't really remember the last time I swept the kitchen floor.
And so, today at roughly 2:45 central time, it mentally hit critical mass. And as I attempted to pull the broom and dustpan out of the pantry, and was promptly assaulted by a falling griddle pan, it quite simply caused a mini-mental-meltdown. (Whoa, alliteration.) And this meltdown came at one of those inopportune times when I really would have rather been watching all the college basketball that was on, because its Saturday, and watching college basketball is what I DO on Saturdays in the winter months.
As I swept and mopped, I cursed myself for letting it all slide so much. I am usually so on top of cleaning up after myself as I go, not letting things get so out of hand that a meltdown is necessary, but today, at the expense of my preferred Saturday activity, I did chores like a real grown-up. Laundry is going, the bathroom isn't unsightly, the kitchen floor has been swept and mopped, (though the kitchen still looks like crap until I can get the rest of the bad paneling ripped out, and the walls replastered and painted.) And so the meltdown was quelled to a degree, at least momentarily. (The kitchen floor will be redone at some point in the not too distant future too, but in lieu of replacing the whole thing today, at least the existing surface is reasonably clean.)
I am so glad that I hate the commentator staffing the better games today, so that I can watch hoops and run the vacuum cleaner at the same time!