It's like waking up.

And finding that it was the maid's year off.

My thyroid meds are kicking in with a vengeance, and for the first time in months (maybe years) I can think straight and feel like my brain is really 'on'. Last night I realized, you know what? My house is a fucking mess. Not just disorganized - I can handle disorganized, that's just the way life works - but dusty, and edging toward dirty.

Just in time for my in-laws to show up tomorrow, on an overnight stop between where they've been in Florida, and their home in Ohio. As always, they will be staying in my office, which doubles as a guest room when you fold out the futon. What does the office look like now? Brace yourselves.


Oh, and on the end of the futon you can't see? There are a few books that need shelved. You know. A few. I put my hand in the photo for scale.


I refuse to post pictures of the kitchen and bathrooms, but I'm amazed no one has died of typhoid yet. (Last year, the husbeast broke the toilet seat, repaired it with duct tape, and we've been using it that way ever since. IT HAS NOT BOTHERED ME UNTIL NOW.)

So. I'm gonna go find a shovel. Or a backhoe. Or maybe some gasoline and a pack of matches.


Oh, and Sekhmet is still at it.

Fucker.

I'm hoping to do a post on blue soon, like this weekend. Unless I'm crushed under a pile of unshelved books.