Have you ever had one of those days where the entire world is composed of nothing more than a trillion small-yet-overblown irritants? I am having one of those days, probably because I have not slept in roughly an eon. Small coughing kid, large snoring husband, great booming thunderstorm, etc. There is no sleep for me. Everything is rubbing me the wrong way, I am flipping out about OMG STUFF TO BE DONE ACK ACK, running in circles (metaphorically) and not really accomplishing anything.
Company will be here DAY! AFTER! TOMORROW! and I will pretty much have a rotating cast of characters filling my house for a week. I am thrilled about the company, but less thrilled about the massive amount of housecleaning still to be done, the stress over what food to buy and how to buy it, the question of planning activities, and the fact that I totally forgot about a particular bill and will have to pay it instead of taking the guests out for fun and sun. (Or getting my hair cut; I am not a SAINT or anything, this is not all altruism here.) In fact, I envision this particular round of company as a series of backs departing for activities unknown but generally pleasant, while I watch forlornly from my window and plump the air mattress obsessively. I am sure that’s not really how it will go, but the realization that I will be broke and sort of low-stocked while everyone is here is unnerving to me.
Also, the house really is a mess, in that “nothing’s actually dirty, but everything looks kind of sleazy” way. The carpet needs to be shampooed, but I cannot procure a shampooer until two days after everyone arrives. The edges of my kitchen floor, beneath the counters and stove and whatnot, need to be hand-scrubbed because they pick up the grode like nobody’s business. My bathroom remains small and dingy no matter what I do, and the tub is about a billion years old and has also been patched at some point with melted yellow fiberglass. I’m not what you would call house-proud, but sweet fucking crackers, I am a leeeetle worried that my guests will take one glance around and book it for parts hygienic.
To top it all off, I am exhausted from the aforementioned lack of sleep, and Connor keeps yelling “BOGEY!” Or perhaps “BOGIE,” which thought has cheered me enough to carry on with the cleaning. Happy Saturday.